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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25144969">esto quod es, fortis et liber</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87'>DragonGirl87</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animagus Harry Potter, Biting, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ex-Auror Harry Potter, Flashbacks, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Head Auror Harry Potter, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Kissing, M/M, Magical Bond, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Non-Linear Narrative, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Alternating, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Piano Sex, Porn With Plot, Possessive Harry Potter, Possessive Sex, Post-Hogwarts, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Prostate Massage, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sassy Harry Potter, Scents &amp; Smells, Smell, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Taste, TasteofSmut 2020, Teasing, Time Skips, Top Harry Potter, Unbreakable Vow (Harry Potter), Werewolf Bites, Wolf Instincts, Wolves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:41:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25144969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One fateful late-night run ruined Harry Potter's life...or did it? When the wolf in him threatens to turn life as he knows it upside down, he's left with no choice but turn to Draco Malfoy for help. Can his former Hogwarts nemesis fix his problem? And more importantly, will they be able to keep their hands and paws off each other?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>DrarryLove, Taste of Smut Fest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Clearing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to the lovely <b>HB</b> for the speedy beta and support.</p><p><i><b>Prompt #6:</b> They say 80% of taste comes from smell, and ever since Harry was bitten and became a werewolf, Draco’s scent is all he can think about...and he can’t help but crave a taste.</i><br/>Choosing this prompt was fate.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>Dressed in navy-blue sports shorts and a black tight-fitting t-shirt, Harry walked through the open gates of Hogwarts’ main entrance. He tilted his face towards the sun, closed his eyes and with a content smile firmly tugging at the corners of his mouth, he inhaled deeply. He could smell the fresh dampness of morning dew clinging to the culms of grass beneath his feet. There was also the faint fragrance of the exotic flowers Professor Sprout and Neville grew in one of their private greenhouses. A distinct sharp piney scent of a needle-covered forest path, and the heavier, darker scent of oozing droplets of the taffy-like tree sap, carrying various notes of the ancient and grand wood filled his nostrils.</p><p>The earth smelt wonderfully wet and fresh, a lingering reminder of the sprinkle of rain that had fallen in the early hours of the morning. There were hints of fallen rotting tree trunks, wild jasmine, and ever-growing deep orange honeysuckle. The subtle yet pervasive quality of a vast selection of edible mushrooms and berries fused with eucalyptus and thick, fresh moss, abundantly growing, and clinging to old stones and exposed tree roots. A pleasant vanilla type smell of a congregation of centuries-old ponderosa pines, not native to the area but somehow still perfectly content to have made the Hogwarts grounds their home, wafted through the air, mixing with juniper, pinyon pine, and cliffroses.</p><p>Harry caught a faint whiff of the sharpness of freshly-brewed morning coffee with a hint of hazelnut and momentarily drawn away from all the nature smells all around him, he turned his head to look back at the imposing castle behind him and blinked several times. He stretched his arms far above his head, felt his muscles lengthen within his body and relished in the intense burn that spread along his arms, down his spine, through his buttocks, and into his thighs.</p><p>Something fierce roared to life deep inside of him and letting it take over, he broke into a slow jog. Feeling completely at ease and comfortable in his own skin, he allowed the creature inside of him to guide him, willingly relinquishing control over where he placed his feet.</p><p>Sure-footed, and trusting his instincts completely, Harry pounded the uneven ground beneath his feet. Small twigs snapped under him, and he could feel the smoothness of scattered stones through the soles of his running shoes. Unperturbed by the forest’s dark and mysterious edges, Harry, driven by the primal urge to become one with the forest, sprinted directly towards it. The closer he got, the harder it became to ignore the beast inside of him and submitting further to its power, Harry let it take over entirely. Just as he disappeared into the forest, narrowly avoiding a thick tree trunk barricading his path, he felt his body lengthen and expand in all directions.</p><p>His toes and fingers curled and transformed into massive paws, covered with dense, coarse jet-black fur that enveloped every inch of his body. The muscles in his arms and legs burnt, stretched, flexed, and his bones creaked as his entire body shifted and effortlessly changed from human to wolf.</p><p>Feeling thoroughly alive and free from all of life’s constraints, Harry filled his entire chest with as much air as he could and parted his thick black lips to let out a celebratory roar. It escaped him in the form of a loud and piercing howl, vibrating through the thicket all around him, and running faster still, Harry flew over the ground, fearlessly disappearing into the uncharted, untamed belly of the Forbidden Forest. It felt as though his large paws barely touched the ground, but the sensitive pads on the underside of his feet relished in the softness of the earth beneath him.</p><p>Despite his history with the forest, including his brush with death during the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry felt strangely connected and at home in these woods. He didn’t feel the perpetual chill that lay in the air and didn’t fear the distinct lack of natural sunlight ― his vision was sharp, even in the forest’s freakish darkness. The supercentenarian conifers all around him, along with their tall deciduous giant cousins, and every single magical creature that had once terrified him, now willingly helped to conceal him from the world’s curious and prying eyes. They kept his secret, took care of him, nurtured his wild side, and guided him through the madness of every single full moon, and Harry was genuinely grateful for that. He still had another two weeks before the, at times, terrifying wolf inside of him forced him to shift into his animagus form and remain that way until the break of dawn. While he wasn’t particularly looking forward to losing control over his free will, he also wasn’t afraid of it. At least not anymore.</p><p>Disinclined to entertain any sullen and ill-tempered thoughts about his fate, Harry breathed deeply, savouring the forest’s plentiful and pleasant smells, and let out another howl. He expertly veered alternately left and right, avoiding low-hanging branches, protruding roots, large rocks, and the one or other forest native.</p><p>Soon, he’d made it into the very heart of the forest and straining his triangular ears, he listened for the melodic splash of a hidden wellhead and the faint gurgling of a small stream which the spring supplied with the freshest water. It only took a couple hundred metres before he located the familiar sound and chasing after it, Harry headed straight for a mysterious secret clearing. He’d discovered it during one of his runs a few years ago and instantly fallen in love with it.</p><p>Thick, intensely soft moss grew around the edges of the shrouded sunbathed glade. It covered most of the rocks that lined the narrow riverbed. Broad blades of soft wild grass stretched itself towards the sun. It swayed back and forth in the gentle summery breeze that blew through the trees and slowing, Harry approached the stream, lowered his head, and lapped up several mouthfuls of cold water to still his thirst. He expressed his enjoyment with a loud howl and frolicked around for a while, splashing water all over himself and several nearby rocks.</p><p>On all sides, birds sang, the wind whistled around the thick trunks of old trees, disturbing the leaves, insects hummed and churred, and a variety of animals, both magical and non-magical, rustled through the underbrush. A golden lizard scrabbled onto the flat top of a rock and Harry watched it curiously. Part of him wanted to chase after it and turn it into a tasty late-morning treat, but he resisted the urge. Instead, he refocused and allowed nature to distract him. The smell of wildflowers, the earth’s natural scent, and the alluring fragrance of a lone doe searching for a mate filled his nose, and he inhaled deeply and whimpered softly. Mint, herbs, and sweet and sour berries fought to overpower the distant but pungent smell of decay and Harry buried his nose in the grass when the acrid stench of a faraway skunk assaulted his sensitive nostrils.</p><p>A rustle of leaves distracted Harry and ignoring the faint malodour, hanging in the air, he rolled onto his underbelly and twisted his head. The head of a stunning grey she-wolf appeared at the edge of the clearing, curiously poking through the thicket of green bushes, and Harry hummed. He lifted his head off the ground and stood perfectly still, waiting. The majestic she-wolf slowly approached him; her piercing crystal-blue eyes intently fixed on him. Harry didn’t move an inch. He didn’t shift, and he didn’t blink. His kin tilted her head slightly to the side and barked softly, though not to warn Harry or urge him to retreat but merely to greet him, his old and faithful friend.</p><p>Harry shifted, gallantly moved forward and as soon as the grey she-wolf was close enough, he gently rubbed and pushed his nose and mouth against the side of her neck, welcoming her with a wolf’s kiss. She let him, even went as far as lowering her head submissively, though Harry knew that there was no hope in hell she’d ever let him have the upper hand, she’d proved that to him during many playful fights.</p><p>They snuggled for a few minutes, reconnecting, familiarising themselves with each other’s scent. Then Harry’s friend, or Accalia as he liked to call her in his head and sometimes to her face, withdrew slightly, and looked back at the underbrush. She let out a low howl, and a moment later, five tiny cubs stumbled out, yelping softly as they fell over their own feet in their eagerness to get to Accalia. Two of the cubs were entirely grey with a few tiny dark patches of fur, one was as white as fresh winter snow, the fourth had beautifully fluffy beige fur with hints of black, and the last cub’s fur was dark brown, almost black. It was an odd mix of litter, indeed.</p><p>As the cubs patted over to their mother, Harry watched in awe and forgetting himself completely, he felt his body move. His insides rearranged themselves as he gradually shifted back into his human form. Harry cursed the fact that the werewolf in him affected his emotional responses so profoundly that it controlled his shifts into and out of his animagus form, and somewhat worried, he glanced at Accalia. Since she’d seen him in his human form before, she remained entirely unfazed by his sudden change, and Harry relaxed.</p><p>Dropping onto the ground, Harry seated himself and snuggled against Accalia when she moved closer and pressed her cold snout into his bare chest. Her gesture almost felt like she was trying to tell him that everything was fine, that it was all OK. Feeling her love flow through him, Harry relaxed and watched curiously as the cubs approached him and sniffed first his feet, then his legs.</p><p>Accalia made soft, encouraging noises, and that was all it took for her five children to start climbing all over Harry, treating him as their new toy. The two grey cubs stumbled over his calves and rolled about, playfully fighting with one another, the white one curled itself around Accalia’s left hind leg, and the beige one eyed him with a strange expression in its tiny wolf eyes. But, it was the nearly-black cub that knocked the Quaffle right out of the playing field, so to speak. It walked in-between Harry’s spread legs and attempted to climb onto his thigh. It failed in its endeavour and promptly toppled over, however, that did not discourage it from trying again and again and again. It did so until it finally managed to place its front paws on Harry’s chest and stretch its little head up far enough that its snout brushed against Harry’s lips.</p><p>He giggled softly and unable to resist, he petted the cheeky cub, running his fingers through its soft, thick fur. The cub yelped and made soft howling noises while it repeatedly nuzzled Harry with its wet snout. He glanced at Accalia, who was now lying beside him, nursing the white cub, and since she appeared thoroughly at ease in his company, he started to play with the cubs, picking them up one by one and hugging them against his chest.</p><p>All but the dark-brown one, the cheekiest of them all, wriggled out of his embrace but stayed close by. The curious cub was quite content to curl up in his arms and promptly went to sleep there. Harry, enamoured by the sheer love and thoroughly excited over the fact that his friend had introduced him to her babies, lay down in the warm sunshine, rolled onto his side and curling up beside Accalia, he held the dark cub against his chest and closed his eyes, ready to doze off at a moment’s notice. Accalia’s cubs, however, didn’t share his desire to bathe in the warm sunshine and pestered him until he reluctantly gave up on the idea of having a nap and resumed playing with them, rolling about the thick grass and letting them hug their short legs around his arms and legs to convey their love. Occasionally, the cubs tried to bite him, but their teeth barely left a mark on his skin. Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether they were too young to use actual force or smart enough to tell the difference between a human playmate and food.</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Flashback: An Odd Request</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>“Malfoy.”</p><p>The sound of Potter’s rich and sonorous voice reverberated through the narrow Ministry corridor, and instinctively straightening up a little, Draco tightened his grip on the smooth leather handle of his black satchel, picked a non-existent bit of fluff off the arm sleeve of his dress robes, and slowly turned around. He feigned a smile and inclined his head about half an inch to silently greet Potter, who was dressed in his fitted Auror uniform, with his jacket undone and his scarlet robes casually folded over his arm. Draco’s appreciative once-over was all but a well-practised sweeping glance and, in his head, he cursed the day he’d noticed Potter’s good looks for the very first time. He firmly ignored his lingering desire to strip Potter naked and resolutely pushed any further inappropriate thoughts into a dark corner of his mind, one he generally kept under lock and key.</p><p>“Potter,” Draco drawled, trying his best to appear thoroughly bored. “What can I do for you?”</p><p>The smile with which Potter responded to his question mildly unsettled Draco, but he held on to his nonchalant attitude, continuing to appear casually calm and relaxed.</p><p>“Your speech in there was quite something, colour me thoroughly impressed.”</p><p>Draco arched an eyebrow at Potter, and not exactly sure how to react to the unexpected compliment, he eyed him with a curious expression.</p><p>He and Potter weren’t exactly what one would call friends, but post-war, and after the madness of the trials, they’d somehow managed to tacitly agree on a strange sort of truce, one they’d never once questioned or tried to define in any way, shape, or form. It was what it was, though what <em>it</em> was, Draco most definitely wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t in any rush to find out. His obsession with Potter’s muscular body was inconvenient enough, and Draco had no desire to rack his brain for an explanation that adequately explained his and Potter’s interactions. Most of the time, he preferred not to dwell on anything that concerned Potter for more than a few minutes at a time.</p><p>Besides, it wasn’t that they never spoke to each other, it was just that they didn’t generally seek each other out, and they most definitely didn’t commend each other on their professional achievements. If anything, all their exchanges were usually peppered with a healthy dose of Draco’s snarky sarcasm and Potter’s exasperated attempts to keep his cool while quietly fuming on the inside. At least that’s what Draco hoped Potter was doing whenever he inadvertently tried to get a rise out of him.</p><p>“Well, thank you, Potter.”</p><p>Deciding that he’d better respond to Potter’s surprising―but clearly earnest―praise, Draco forced himself to relax a bit. He offered Potter a strange sort of half-smile and a curt nod, then, unwilling to awkwardly linger in the corridor, he made to turn away and head for the lifts. He couldn’t fathom why Potter had decided to strike up a conversation after his audience with the Wizengamot, an opportunity to finally present his work and acquire the necessary credentials and patents to be able to advance his research and continue to develop and improve several vital Potions, used not only by the Ministry but also by healers and apothecaries around the globe.</p><p>“Erm.”</p><p>Potter rather noisily cleared his throat and trying his hardest to control a bout of instant annoyance, Draco looked back over his shoulder.</p><p>“Yes, Potter? What is it?” he said, injecting his question with a moderate amount of impatience.</p><p>Potter floundered a bit and the sight of him, somewhat flustered and at a loss for words, made Draco swallow some of his pique. He reminded himself that Potter had yet to do anything to annoy him and forced himself to be more civil. He started with turning around to face Potter and shifted his leather satchel from one hand to the other.</p><p>“Are you in a rush?”</p><p>Potter’s question somewhat stunned Draco, but he resisted the urge to frown and shook his head instead.</p><p>“No, although I would like to have lunch sometime soon. I’m really rather famished.”</p><p>“There’s a really great café not too far from here. They do amazing sandwiches, soups, and salads, it’s a different menu each day. Their coffee beans are home-roasted, and their desserts are all freshly prepared on the day. I’ve a feeling you might like the place. Can I treat you?”</p><p>This time, Draco couldn’t help but frown deeply. He was tempted to ask whether Potter was asking him out but couldn’t manage to get the question to make its way past his lips. Instead, he furrowed his brows deeply, hoping to convey both his surprise and confusion at Potter’s unexpected and sudden lunch invitation, but before he could query Potter’s intentions, Potter explained himself.</p><p>“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about,” Potter said, then paused to look around. “But not here, these walls tend to have ears, no matter how many silencing charms you throw at them.”</p><p>Draco couldn’t help but smirk.</p><p>“My, the great Harry Potter wants to make me privy of his secrets?” he teased. “Whatever have I done to deserve such an honour?”</p><p>Potter’s deep frown expressed his displeasure over the childish taunt, and his emerald-green eyes sparkled with a hint of danger, the kind that let Draco know Potter wasn’t one to be messed with. It was as if there suddenly was another side to Potter, one Draco had never seen before because Potter usually made every effort to suppress it. Draco was instantly intrigued and therefore decided to adopt a somewhat more mature approach.</p><p>“You know what, yes, please. Thank you for the invitation, I’d love to have lunch together.”</p><p>Potter rolled his eyes.</p><p>“No need to lay it on this thick, Malfoy,” he said with a faint smirk that was entirely uncharacteristic and baffled Draco somewhat.</p><p>He decided right there and then that Potter, or at least the version of Potter he’d just met, was a confounding conundrum, a puzzle Draco wanted to solve.</p><p>“Whatever, Potter, let’s go.”</p><p>“Not so fast, I can’t very well venture out in my Auror uniform. Meet me by the fountain in five?”</p><p>Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter.</p><p>“Are you trying to tell me that you’re able to make it up to the DMLE, get changed, and meet me in the Atrium in the space of five minutes?”</p><p>Potter gave him a pointed look and crossed his arms over his chest.</p><p>“Watch me, Malfoy,” he said, and before Draco could come up with a retort, Potter had turned on his heel, and all Draco could do was to watch him sure-footedly, and with his back ramrod straight, stride down the corridor that led towards the main hall and the lifts.</p><p>As he watched Potter retreat, Draco refused to acknowledge that he’d just licked his lips or that Potter’s backside was one he’d quite like to get intimately acquainted with. It took Draco a few moments before he managed to pull himself together and banishing all illicit thoughts that were in any way connected to Potter’s delectable behind, he took a deep breath, cleared his throat, nodded to himself and moved towards the lifts.</p><p><em>The Atrium</em>, he reminded himself and fought hard to keep his thoughts from straying any further. His mind played along until he stepped into an empty lift and the doors closed behind him. It was then that he began to think about all the reasons why Potter had invited him out to lunch.</p><p>What was it that Potter wanted to share with him?</p><p>And why was he so mysterious about it all?</p><p>Draco couldn’t really bring himself to believe that Potter wanted to solicit his help for something or other. But judging by their earlier exchange, that seemed to be precisely what Potter wanted and it somewhat unsettled Draco. No matter how hard he tried, Draco couldn’t entirely stop his mind from analysing their conversation. He tried his hardest to come up with a possible list of things Potter might want to talk to him about. Every now and then his treacherous mind offered up an idea that was decidedly private in nature and by the time the lift doors opened, and the cool female voice told him that he’d arrived in the Atrium, Draco was a bit of a mess, but he stoically kept his composure and strode over to the Fountain of Magical Brethren.</p><p>Much to his complete and utter annoyance, Harry <em>bloody</em> Potter―now dressed in a tight-fitting pair of black jeans and a tailored burgundy button-up shirt―was already there, idly waiting for him as though having lunch together was an activity they engaged in regularly.</p><p>As Draco approached him, Potter dared to flash him the biggest, cheekiest grin, Draco had ever seen. His wand hand itched terribly, and for several seconds, he could think about nothing but banishing Potter smug visage to the moon. Or, lest Potter found a way to get back, perhaps another galaxy altogether? The idea rather amused Draco, and unwilling to let Potter get to him, he made keeping his mask in place his priority. There was absolutely no way he was going to give Potter an inch, no, most definitely not. He was going to remain completely composed and in control of his thoughts, and he didn’t plan on letting anything Potter did or said unsettle him. The fact that Potter looked ravishingly handsome in his casual clothes didn’t faze Draco in the least, or so he repeatedly told himself, and by the time he’d walked over to Potter, he’d almost managed to convince him of the fact that that was the truth.</p><p>“Just so you know, Potter, I am fully aware that Aurors are exempt from the Anti-Apparition Wards, the Ministry has in place,” Draco hissed, once Potter was within earshot.</p><p>Glaring icy daggers, he fixed his narrowed eyes on Potter, deliberately making it very clear that he was thoroughly displeased at having been played.</p><p>Potter dared to laugh at him.</p><p>And it wasn’t a chuckle either.</p><p>No, it was a proper open-mouthed, teeth-flashing laugh.</p><p>Draco pressed his lips tightly together and idly wondered whether he could get away with casting a wandless stinging hex in Potter’s general direction.</p><p>“I didn’t apparate, Malfoy. I took the lift, just like everyone else. The one reserved for court hearings. The DMLE uses it to bring the defendants down to the courtrooms.”</p><p>Potter’s smug expression was positively irritating and for a moment, Draco seriously contemplated walking away. He even shuffled his feet and made to turn away, but in the end, his curiosity won out, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. He wanted to know why Potter had sought him out and―<em>damnit</em>―his desire to self-preserve wasn’t strong enough to resist Potter’s bait. Draco silently cursed himself for his lack of integrity. He made a mental note to devote some of his time to research whether it was at all possible to create a potion that might increase his ability to remain entirely unvexed in Potter’s presence.</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Post-Playtime Nap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>Casually flicking his hand, Harry wandlessly turned the powerful jets of water off, and stepping out of the large walk-in shower, he strode through a thick cloud of steam. He wandlessly summoned a towel from the nearby towel rack. As it flew across the room, Harry reached out and plucked it out of the air with practised ease ― <em>once a Seeker, always a Seeker</em>, he thought smugly, entirely ignoring the fact that he hadn’t played a game of Quidditch in about five years. He curled his fingers into the intensely soft and fluffy crimson bath towel, but instead of taking the time to dry himself, Harry merely wrapped the towel around his broad hips and left the bathroom.</p><p>His hair was still dripping wet, and a cascade of tiny water droplets ran down his muscular torso. Still, Harry’s mind was firmly focused on the ambrosial smell of a succulently grilled thick and juicy steak sitting on a plate in the centre of his dinner table. It still sizzled, and Harry’s stomach grumbled in response to that, demanding his undivided attention. Since he’d spent most of the morning and half of the afternoon frolicking about in the woods with Accalia and her cubs, he had missed lunch. Thankfully the Hogwarts kitchen elves had a serious soft spot for him. They were always happy to rustle up something special for him. Even though he’d never once asked them for the special treatment, they always made sure that he didn’t miss a meal or brought him an extra treat here and there. Harry had the feeling that they, to an extent at least, knew about his biggest secret, and as such, whatever they surprised him with never failed to make his mouth water.</p><p>Today’s exceptionally well-flavoured and peppery steak was accompanied by a small bowl of grilled okra with a spicy chipotle dipping sauce, and a large plate of crispy salt and vinegar potatoes. Harry couldn’t wait to indulge in the earthy and undeniable green flavour of his vegetables and the potatoes wildly addictive saltiness. It blended so perfectly with the vinegar’s acidity that Harry instantly postponed his plans to get dressed and walked over to the table instead. He pulled his preferred chair out, slumped onto the soft upholstery and immediately reached for his steak knife and a fork.</p><p>Seconds later, he shoved a large piece of perfectly prepared meat into his mouth and immediately sank his teeth into the tender flesh. His mouth filled with the tasty juice, and the all-consuming flavour had Harry close his eyes to better savour the taste. Grateful to be in the privacy of his living quarters, he gave in to his inner wolf’s desire to express itself and let out a rather indecent guttural groan. The food was heaven and Harry couldn’t stop gorging himself on it. He finished absolutely everything, and feeling rather full and somewhat sluggish, he downed three quarters a bottle of chilled sparkling water, before grudgingly heading into his bedroom to get dressed.</p><p>Once he’d pushed the door open, however, the fresh, clean smell of his bed lined distracted him thoroughly. The window on the far side of the room stood open, and a gentle breeze playfully teased the pure white voile net curtains. The entire room smelled of warm summer rays, sweet almond, jasmine, and sandalwood with just a tiny hint of bergamot.</p><p>Harry closed his eyes, and instead of walking over to his wardrobe and finding himself some clothes, he removed the towel from around his waist. Discarding it on the upholstered storage bench at the foot of his king-size four-poster canopy bed, he fell onto the bed. Crawling into its centre, Harry twisted onto his side and curled up comfortably. With both arms wrapped around one of the four pillows, he promptly dozed off to the soft chirping sound of a choir of tiny birds congregating on the branches of a large leafy tree just outside his bedroom window and the lulling scent of dried lavender that clung to his pillows.</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Flashback: Secretum Servare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>Draco warily glanced at the folded crisp white parchment; Potter had just pushed across the table. Despite his damnably intense curiosity―which, and Draco was convinced of that, would one day be the reason of his premature demise―he managed to resist the urge to immediately reach for the paper and unfold it.</p>
<p>Instead, he played it cool and merely giving the note a cursory glance, he remained entirely nonchalant about it. On the outside, anyway. On the inside, his mind was occupied with trying to work out just what Potter was playing at, but despite fixing Potter with a piercing stare, Potter’s poker face gave away absolutely nothing. Somehow, he simultaneously managed to look like a man who had nothing to hide and a man who had everything to hide. It was vexing, and Draco was on the verge of losing his cool.</p>
<p>Ever since that blasted day, when Potter had ambushed him after his presentation in front of the Wizengamot, things had stopped making sense altogether. He’d gone from mostly keeping out of the public eye and spending most days working on his research and drafting papers to trying to crack the enigma that was Harry Potter. If Draco was honest, which he really didn’t want to be―neither with himself nor with anyone else―because it was driving him stir-crazy. The only reason he’d not yet pulled his own hair out was that it had taken him years―and a dozen costly potions treatments in Paris―to grow it out.</p>
<p>For the past two months, Potter had insisted on weekly lunches, always surprising him with an out-of-the-blue invitation, Draco didn’t know how to turn down. One question from Potter and all his logic went straight out of the window. It was thoroughly infuriating. He’d tried, really tried, to resist Potter’s odd charm, but there was just something about the way Potter looked at him that made it damn-near impossible to resist him. Something in those emerald-green bespectacled eyes fascinated Draco enough that it instantly narrowed his list of answers down to all but one; ‘<em>yes</em>’ or a variation thereof. He couldn’t even make heads or tails out of the fact that Potter seemingly always knew when he was at the Ministry either.</p>
<p>At one point, he’d been balmy enough―though he blamed the three tumblers of Firewhisky he’d consumed several hours after dinner―to believe that Potter had placed a tracking charm on him. A phial of extremely potent Sober-Up and several detective spells later, he’d seriously considered checking himself into St. Mungo’s for a complete mental check-up. He had, however, abandoned that idea in favour of some Dreamless Sleep in the hope that fourteen hours of undisturbed tranquillity and blissful ignorance would cure him of his madness.</p>
<p>“It isn’t poisoned, you know.”</p>
<p>Potter’s words instantly stilled Draco’s reeling mind, and blinking a few times, he frowned at Potter, who casually leant back on his chair and shuffled so that he could throw one leg over the other. His eyes twinkled with mirth, and Draco found that so utterly maddening that since he couldn’t bring himself to hex Potter, he seriously contemplated punching Potter in the face. Anything to wipe that smug smile off his face for good! Draco suppressed an angry growl and grudgingly resigning himself to the fact that Potter presently had the upper hand, he reached for the parchment and unfolded it.</p>
<p>The moment he did, two elegantly slanted words, written in red ink, appeared in the centre of the paper:<br/><br/></p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Secretum Servare.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p><br/>Draco blinked and curling his fist around the edge of the paper, he pressed his lips tightly together and glowered darkly. At this very moment in time, his desire to commit murder was deep-seated and burnt enthusiastically in his chest.</p>
<p>“What the absolute fuck, Potter!” he snarled.</p>
<p>Potter shrugged.</p>
<p>“While I’m confident that you won’t go blabbing to the press, I need more reassurance. I hope you can understand that, Malfoy.”</p>
<p>Draco frowned.</p>
<p>“Blab about what exactly? Our weekly luncheons and your strong preference for animal-based proteins? The fact that you seem to have entirely too much time on your hands which leads me to believe that you’re either not qualified to lead the Auror force or that the job isn’t taxing enough? Or, if whatever you’re so terrified of sharing with me, is of a more personal nature, and you’re tired of being Britain’s most eligible bachelor, let me just tell you, there are much easier ways to get the press interested in your probably non-existent love life.”</p>
<p>To Draco’s absolute horror, Potter remained thoroughly unfazed and merely roared with laughter in response to his rant. Even though Draco rather liked the sound of Potter’s unrestrained hysterics―there was something warm and rich about it―and found them mildly infectious even, he most stubbornly kept a straight face and swallowed the urge to throw the contents of his water glass into Potter’s face.</p>
<p>“I do like meat, yes, how very perceptive of you, Malfoy. As for leading the Auror force, the job is taxing, quite often leaves me feeling thoroughly infuriated, and when it doesn’t do that, it demands an absurd amount of overtime. I’ve got a long list of people I’d love to curse. Their only purpose in life seems to be to make my life a living hell, but since I don’t want to spend the rest of my days locked up in Azkaban, I’m trying my best to resist the itch. I can’t say that I’m happy to be Britain’s most eligible bachelor, but, if you’re alluding to the fact that I swing both ways and have dated both women and men in the past, I don’t give a hoot about who knows and who doesn’t. If the Prophet ever decides to make a big deal out of it, so be it. Considering that you seem to have sussed me out without me actually mentioning a preference for any one gender, I can’t have been that secretive about the people I’ve dated in the past.”</p>
<p>“As for that note,” Potter motioned towards the parchment with a casual hand gesture, “what I’d like to talk to you about requires your utmost discretion. Whether you choose to believe me or not, I trust that you won’t share my secrets with the press. It wouldn’t be in your best interest to do so. However, trusting you and trusting others are two entirely different matters. Should anyone get wind of what I’d like to share with you, they will try absolutely anything and everything to get you to reveal my secret. As you can see, I’ve already signed the paper. Take it as a token of my willingness to confide in you. If you sign, yes, trying to share my secret will cause you terrible distress, but, and you know that as well as I do, any charms or potions designed to entice you to talk will be rendered entirely useless.”</p>
<p>Potter’s explanation made perfect sense, given his history and involvement in the war, it was logical and quite sane of him to demand some form of security. It was Potter’s unbelievable sass, and the way he’d effectively ridiculed him for his exasperated rant, that practically forced Draco to continue scowling at Potter, even if he only did so to show his dogged determination not to change his attitude. He gave the parchment in front of him a most distasteful look and defiantly crossed his arms over his chest.</p>
<p>For a while, nothing but silence filled the small space between them. They’d finished their lunch quite some time ago, and a waitress had stopped by to clear their table. It was after she’d left that Potter had non-verbally, and without the use of his wand, cast a silencing charm that surrounded their table and the immediate area around it. None of the café’s other patrons could listen in on their conversation but seemingly hadn’t even noticed that anything had changed.</p>
<p><em>Muggles</em>, Draco thought scathingly, then gave Potter’s parchment another disapproving glance. All the while, he was fighting the burning desire to satisfy his own curiosity. Potter with his carefree and easy-going attitude and his stupidly good looks had devoted two entire months to butter Draco up, to sneakily wrap him around his little finger, and practically goad him into signing the blasted contract.</p>
<p>“You should’ve been in Slytherin, you know,” Draco mumbled, and it was only when Potter chuckled that he realised he’d said the words out loud.</p>
<p>“You know, back in ’91, the Sorting Hat thought so, too.”</p>
<p>Draco rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“The fact that you managed to talk it out of its decision only proves that you got yourself sorted into the wrong house.”</p>
<p>Potter tilted his head slightly to the side, and with a lop-sided grin, he gave Draco a cheeky wink.</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” he said with an air of mysteriousness about him that had Draco silently cursing the day he’d allowed Potter to get under his skin.</p>
<p>There simply had to be some sort of remedy to cure him of that affliction!</p>
<p>Draco made a mental note to add the invention of a concoction that cleansed his mind of anything related to Potter to his long list of potions he needed to research.</p>
<p>“Look, Malfoy, I really think that you can help me, but I hope that you can understand where I am coming from. If you don’t sign and I tell you, and somebody finds out, my life is over, in more ways than one. Since I’m quite fond of my freedom and care about self-preservation as much as the next guy, I’m going to keep my mouth shut until you either decide to work with me or decline any further collaboration. I’m not going to pressure you into deciding right this very moment. Take a few days to think it over. You know where to find me.”</p>
<p>Stunned, and at a loss for words, Draco watched as Potter got up and fishing several colourful notes of Muggle money out of his pocket, he left those on the table, then inclined his head and left the café. Draco just about managed to stop his mouth from dropping open and with his eyes fixed on Potter’s retreating form, he simply sat at what had become their table and wondered what in Salazar Slytherin’s name had just happened.</p>
<p>When exactly had Potter abandoned his brazen boldness and his obstinate, daring nerve to disguise his recklessness as courage and chivalry?</p>
<p>And where had he learnt to be so utterly shameless about getting what he wanted?</p>
<p>The thick and oblivious boy, Draco remembered from their days at Hogwarts, didn’t exist anymore. He’d been replaced by a shrewd young man who wasn’t afraid to chase after his desires.</p>
<p>Draco shook his head, and still in a trance, he reached for his glass of water and downed most of it, then glanced down at the thick parchment in front of him. He stared at the incantation until his vision became blurry, grudgingly suppressed his displeasure when one of the café’s staff approached him to settle the bill, and eventually managed to persuade himself to leave and return to his private lab.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><b>Secretum Servare:</b> to keep a secret</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. La Cathédrale Engloutie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>Mellow piano tunes―they were sweet, round, dark, and rich―gradually coaxed Harry from his dreams as the familiar melody of Debussy’s famous <em>La Cathédrale Engloutie</em> drifted through the half-open bedroom door. Harry had heard it often enough to be able to recognise it without difficulty.</p>
<p>He rolled onto his back and stretching his muscular arms, he folded them behind his head and blinked―somewhat bleary-eyed―at the canopy of his massive bed.</p>
<p>Drawn in by the music, and with his brain still half-asleep, he imagined himself floating, close to death, in the middle of a vast and endless but freezing ocean. Despite the macabre setting, he felt warm, content, and happy. The stars and the galaxies seemed to be in sharper focus, and Harry’s world was entirely free from light pollution, unwanted noises, and stressful thoughts. He felt himself slowly disappear below the water’s surface, and as he sank, Harry pictured a grandiose and ancient cathedral. It attracted him, enticing him to swim toward it and without thinking, he moved his arms and legs, using strong, sure motions to propel himself through the deep, calm, icy waters. Awed by how such structure with its complex geometry and architecture could have ever possibly been built, he let the sight fill him with wonder, and just as he thought he was close enough to reach for the door and explore the inside of the imposing building, the music stopped.</p>
<p>Harry abruptly found himself back in the here and now and befuddled, he curled his toes into the soft duvet cover and allowed himself another stretch. Disinclined to move from the bed, Harry simply lay there, marvelling in the aftermath of the sheer power of music, and happy to just be. For a change, nothing troubled him, and he turned his head to the side to glance out of the window. What with tonight being the longest night of the entire year, the sun had yet to disappear. It hung low in the sky, casting long shadows on the ground. Harry couldn’t see those, but he knew they were there.</p>
<p>The sun’s slanting rays gave the sky a warm orange tinge, gently illuminating a pale crescent moon in the far distance. It shone like a silver claw in the night sky, and although it was far from being full, Harry felt its pull and momentarily unable to look away, he could feel a low growl built up deep inside of him. It radiated through, vibrating through his chest, and erupted past his slightly parted lips and Harry flashed a strong set of shiny white teeth at the moon. As if it could sense his displeasure over its power over him, the moon promptly vanished, hiding behind a fluffy white cloud.</p>
<p>Harry felt himself calm and to further settle the wolf inside of him, he took a deep breath. Almost instantly rich, full-bodied spiciness, with a subtle hint of sweetness filled his nose, invigorating him further.</p>
<p>By now, sleep was all but a distant memory.</p>
<p>The aroma of lightly honeyed, fresh flowers wafted through the room, and that was all it took for Harry to finally decide to climb out of bed. Undercurrents of unsweetened cocoa and bubble gum with a strong scent of lemon, a touch of mint, a strange sort of earthiness, he couldn’t quite place, and the heady and calming sweetness of chamomile drew Harry towards the door. He reached for the doorknob and as he opened the door fully, deep, and sensual nuances of wood and musk teased his overly sensitive nostrils.</p>
<p>“Bad day?” he asked, casually leaning against the doorframe, and crossing his arms over his chest.</p>
<p>“That would be putting it mil― Oh, for Salazar’s sake, Potter, must you be so utterly ostentatious, you wretched human?”</p>
<p>Harry answered the rhetorical question with a burst of deep, loud, and hearty laughter. As it reverberated around the room, he pushed away from the doorframe, uncrossed his arms, and walked over to the oversized Grand Piano. Having been polished to perfection, the high-quality black hardwood―pure ebony―shone so brightly that Harry was able to see his own reflection. He didn’t have to try very hard to appear to be entirely blasé about Draco’s complaint, and with a dirty smirk, he bent forward and leant on the piano.</p>
<p>A transparent teacup stood, within reaching distance, on top of a round beige cork coaster. It was filled with a deep, red-coloured liquor and the very scent that had coaxed Harry out of bed wafted from it. Curious, Harry hooked a finger around the handle, brought it to his lips, and gave it a cursory sniff. His nose rather appreciated the sophisticated scent, and he couldn’t entirely stop himself from smiling. He hesitated for a moment, then took a sip and immediately pulled a face. He could barely resist the temptation to spit the horrid-tasting beverage back into the cup. Thankfully, his sense of decorum kicked in at the last moment, and he forced himself to swallow the bitter drink.</p>
<p>“What in Godric’s name is that awful concoction?”</p>
<p>His exclamation was met with a sharp glare, expressing strong displeasure over his completely over-the-top reaction.</p>
<p>“Put that down, Potter, you completely savage beast.”</p>
<p>Harry narrowed his eyes and let out a low growl.</p>
<p>“I’m not a savage beast,” he snarled through gritted teeth.</p>
<p>A pair of silvery-grey eyes pierced him, giving him a thoroughly black look.</p>
<p>“You don’t scare me, Potter. Quit the wolf act and be a good little cub, won’t you? Put that cup down before you break the glass with your big grubby paws. Tulsi tea may tempt your senses, but it wasn’t made for heathens like you.”</p>
<p>Harry scowled.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you a delight tonight?” he mumbled under his breath.</p>
<p>Straightening up, he glanced around the room in the hope to locate something edible. He felt famished and desired sustenance more than anything.</p>
<p>Hours had passed since his late lunch and although all he’d spent most of the late afternoon and early evening sleeping, which wasn’t exactly a strenuous activity, he was now starving. Just the thought of food had his stomach rumbling, and he was pleased to spot a large tray filled with all manner of goodies waiting for him. There was an extensive selection of meaty sandwiches, and a plate with all kinds of cheeses, green olives, and various bowls filled with fresh fruit slices and an assortment of home-grown vegetables.</p>
<p>There was even a French press filled to the brim with piping hot, black coffee. Harry walked over to the dining table, removed the glass dome that covered the food, and reached for a chicken sandwich. He bit into it, and as the zesty juicy flavours of marinated, cooked chicken, exploded in his mouth, he reached for the French press and poured a generous amount of coffee into his favourite bright-red Gryffindor mug.</p>
<p>Sandwich still in hand, and coffee cup halfway to his lips, Harry turned around and promptly smirked at the genuinely thirsty look Draco was giving him. His eyes were dark with lust and full of longing. One didn’t have to be an accomplished Legilimens to work out what Draco was currently thinking about. His thoughts were most definitely utterly filthy and decidedly sexual in nature, and a flutter of excitement surged through Harry. Instead of allowing it to run wild, he controlled it rather effortlessly. For now, anyway.</p>
<p>“Like what you see, Malfoy?”</p>
<p>Harry deliberately taunted Draco with a mischievous grin and a shameless twinkle in his eyes, alluding to the fact that his thoughts were just as X-rated as Draco’s. Whether that was, in fact, correct or not, he intentionally left up to Draco’s imagination.</p>
<p>He wasn’t at all fazed about the fact that he was stark naked, displaying all his assets. Leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination rather gave him a kick, and Draco’s hungry expression only made it even more fun. To him, it was a sweet game, a test to discover the varying degree of Draco’s patience. Some days, Draco managed to resist him for the longest time. He was quite good at faking nonchalance, although they both knew that Harry could see right through Draco’s charade. Other days, Draco’s self-restraint was practically non-existent and getting him to make a move required barely any effort at all.</p>
<p>Taking another bite of his sandwich, Harry chewed slowly and deliberately, then washed the last bits down with a generous sip of coffee.</p>
<p>He smirked, and as he winked at Draco from across the room, he couldn’t help but wonder which it would be today. Would Draco make it easy for him or would he fight him tooth and nail?</p>
<p>Harry couldn’t wait to find out.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><b>La Cathédrale Engloutie:</b> The Submerged Cathedral, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJILQWePbt4">listen here</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Flashback: The Truth Laid Bare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>With a somewhat wary and quite frankly also perplexed look on his face, a look that he tried his hardest to disguise as an expression of pure nonchalance but was sure he didn’t quite manage, Draco watched as Potter―entirely unfazed about the fact that they barely qualified as friends or even acquaintances―tugged at his button-up shirt.</p>
<p>As Potter dragged the hem of his burgundy shirt out of his trousers and his other hand moved to his belt buckle, Draco racked his brains, trying to figure out at what point in time he’d agreed to watch Potter strip for him or whether he was, in fact, hallucinating, and the entire scene wasn’t even real.</p>
<p>Following a two-week-long internal battle of wills, he’d finally relented and sought Potter out.</p>
<p>Without an appointment, of course, because if Potter could make unreasonable demands, so could he. They’d met in Potter’s private office at the Ministry―or rather Draco had barged into Potter’s office―and there, though only after glowering at Potter for much longer than strictly necessary (not that it was necessary at all), Draco had procured a quill from a special case in his black leather satchel.</p>
<p>He’d dipped it into Potter’s antique-looking ink-jar and signed the charmed paper with an overly extravagant flourish, effectively agreeing to take Potter’s secret to his grave.</p>
<p>As he thought back to that moment, Draco realised that he could still feel the spell’s magic. Two weeks had passed since he’d signed the damn agreement, but now that he thought about it, the pads of his fingers tingled with the memory of it all. Draco couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d finally lost his marbles completely. What was it about Potter that made it so impossible to resist him?</p>
<p>Invisible to them both, Potter’s magic had fused with his own, creating a sacred bond―akin to an Unbreakable Vow only a lot more complicated―and the eternal promise to protect a piece of knowledge that, if exposed, apparently had the potential to ruin Potter.</p>
<p><em>Might as well have married the daft prick</em>, Draco thought scathingly, frowning at his own choice of words. He watched as Potter undid his belt buckle and popped the top button of his black jeans.</p>
<p>Exactly when had Potter learnt to dress to impress?</p>
<p>And why were his clothes no longer hanging off him like they’d previously been owned by a troll?</p>
<p>Draco had heard the rumours, of course, about the way Potter’s Muggle relations had treated him growing up, but the blasted Gryffindork had done a complete one-eighty when it came to his fashion sense. He was almost entirely unrecognisable. Potter’s clothes finally fitted him properly!</p>
<p>Draco wasn’t quite sure why that fact annoyed him so much―or maybe he knew why but simply refused to admit the truth to himself and anyone else―and instinctively shifted in his office chair, shuffling closer to its edge. He instantly cursed himself for his youthful, overeager, and hormone-infused reaction.</p>
<p>Clearing his throat, he made a point to abruptly rise to his feet and slammed the flat of his hand onto his desk. A searing pain briefly concentrated in the centre of his palm, then shot up his entire arm and exploded in his shoulder. Draco ground his teeth tightly together to suppress a howl and fixed Potter with a threatening glare.</p>
<p>“That’s quite enough now, Potter,” he snarled.</p>
<p>Potter dared to give him the cockiest grin Draco had ever seen and continued―undaunted―and as if the fact that he was about to reveal the colour and type of his underwear didn’t bother him in the slightest. Had nobody ever taught him that it wasn’t the sort of thing one did? Potter dragged the zipper of his jeans down, and as the trousers fell open, Draco found himself staring at a pair of black boxer briefs that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It wasn’t that they were tight, it was just that they hugged Potter’s bits so perfectly that Draco’s mouth watered.</p>
<p>He swallowed hard and pressing his lips firmly together he prayed to Merlin that the heat, he could feel rising up from the centre of his groin, wasn’t going to result in him blushing like a schoolboy. That was one reaction he couldn’t entirely control, and he had no desire to end up on the receiving end of Potter’s taunts; nor did he want Potter to know that he had somewhat of a soft spot (which was hardening rather rapidly) for Potter’s athletic body. No, he was the one who did the taunting―it was his Slytherin-given right to do so―and Draco wasn’t ever going to give up that prerogative. It didn’t even bother him that―even in his own head―he sounded just a tad bit childish.</p>
<p>“Get your mind out of the gutter, Malfoy, how else am I supposed to show you the scar?”</p>
<p>Draco frowned deeply and tried his hardest not to gawk openly and possibly also stupidly. He could feel his eyebrows tangling together, but there was nothing he could do to stop the expression from firmly edging itself onto his face. Thoroughly peeved, he tried his best to process Potter’s question properly, but it took him several moments to do so.</p>
<p>Scar?</p>
<p>What scar?</p>
<p>Had Potter goaded him into signing a secrecy agreement only to show him a bloody scar?</p>
<p>Wasn’t the one on his forehead bad enough?</p>
<p>Since the end of the war, it had faded quite a bit, but it was still there, and most of the time Draco saw Potter―even if it was just in passing―it was one of the first things he looked at. Though lately―and Draco absolutely didn’t want to admit this, but his mind was treacherous and deceiving and made a point to spell the truth out to him―he also paid rather too much attention to Potter’s fit body, the way he moved, held himself, and spoke. Not that he hadn’t always―to some degree at least―noticed all that, but recently it was especially bad.</p>
<p>For this reason, and a few others, Draco had no desire to see any of Potter’s other scars, except before he had the chance to coherently communicate that to Potter, it was too late for him to actively protest.</p>
<p>Potter had tugged his shirt further up and his jeans and briefs further down and there on his hip it was―already healed but somewhat ugly nonetheless―the sharp reminder of a severely deep bite.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was instantly clear to Draco that the scar was the result of an unwanted rendezvous with a werewolf and his mind reeled, trying to work out specifics. He had seen enough werewolf bites and scratches―in textbooks and in real life―and was able to immediately recognise the mark for what it was. The spots were the werewolf’s teeth marks had pierced the skin were clearly visible, and since Potter had a lovely tan―olive with golden undertones―the near-white scar tissue stood out.</p>
<p>“You’re a werewolf,” Draco blurted out, realising much too late that he’d apparently managed to momentarily misplace his ability to filter his words.</p>
<p>To stop himself from making any other dumb statements, he bit his bottom lip sharply. Almost immediately, the metallic and somewhat salty taste of blood filled his mouth and scrunching up his face, Draco suppressed a whimper. Judging by how Potter scrunched up his nose and the way his eyes darkened considerably, he could tell that the werewolf inside him had smelt the blood. He hastily swallowed, willing both, the taste, and the smell, away for good. At the same time, he was still trying to process what Potter had just told him, well, shown him.</p>
<p>Harry Potter was a werewolf.</p>
<p>Harry Potter.</p>
<p>A Werewolf.</p>
<p>Harry Potter was a werewolf.</p>
<p>Something about that should have filled Draco with a healthy dose of respect and a decent amount of fear, but instead, he merely acknowledged the news and rolled with it. He was now quite sure that he had most definitely lost all his marbles.</p>
<p><em>The Janus Thickey Ward it is then</em>, Draco thought bitterly, quietly resigning himself to the fact that he would be spending the remainder of his days in a magical mental institution for those suffering from severe psychiatric breakdowns. He couldn’t help but wonder, if he promised to keep out of everyone’s way, they might allow him to quietly continue to research and write his papers.</p>
<p>Potter looked at him with a deep frown edged into his forehead, and as he fixed his clothing and dressed again, Draco barely managed to resist the urge to drop his face into his palm. He mentally berated himself for his inability to remember any sense of decorum when in Potter’s presence, and briefly closing his eyes, he took a very deep breath to compose himself.</p>
<p>“Astute observation, Malfoy, however, you’re wrong. Well, you’re not, but you are. At least I think you are.”</p>
<p>It was now Draco’s turn to furrow his brows.</p>
<p>To say that he looked and felt confused was putting it mildly.</p>
<p>In fact, it was probably the understatement of the century, perhaps even millennium if one dared to be bold enough to exaggerate and Draco most definitely dared. It was in his nature. Not always, but occasionally, and right now absolutely classified as an occasion to embellish the truth somewhat.</p>
<p>“What exactly do you mean?”</p>
<p>Draco spoke slowly, put special emphasis on each word, and felt like a complete idiot the entire three seconds it took him to pose his question to Potter, who merely gave him a funny look and a shoulder shrug.</p>
<p>“Well, it’s a bit difficult to explain, there’s a bit of a backstory.”</p>
<p>Draco arched a single eyebrow, and every single part of him wanted to tell Potter to get on with it and put all of his cards on the table, but instead of doing so, he chose to sit back down in his office chair and throw one leg over the other. He casually rested his hands in his lap and waited for Potter to get started, though his impatience was nearly enough to kill him.</p>
<p>Potter remained quiet for several moments, then sighed. He momentarily glanced at the chair in front of Draco’s luxurious desk, took a step towards it, then very obviously dismissed the idea of sitting down and remained standing instead.</p>
<p>“I’m an Animagus. I have been for several years. I trained myself to become one, well, with a bit of guidance from Hermione, just like my father and his friends did, and while I’m not officially registered, the Minister knows. It’s semi-legal.”</p>
<p>Draco barely resisted rolling his eyes, but his next words were an expression of scornful derision.</p>
<p>“Figures you’d find a way to skirt around the rules, Potter. You’ve always been extremely good at it.”</p>
<p>Potter said nothing, didn’t even react to his blatant bait, and Draco briefly wondered whether, on top of having lost his marbles, he was now also losing his touch. He’d always managed to get a rise out of Potter and the fact that he hadn’t managed to achieve that goal just now thoroughly irked him.</p>
<p>“No, Malfoy, I didn’t find a way to skirt around the rules. Not per se anyway. I went to Shacklebolt <em>before</em> I started training to become an Animagus, he knew all along. Post-war, I just wanted to avoid the press making a big deal out of it. Plus, I wanted something that was just mine, something I didn’t have to share with anyone.”</p>
<p>Draco tried to think of a scathing remark to that but no matter which way he looked at it, Potter’s answer made perfect sense. It was reasonable and without resorting to pure childishness―which he wasn’t willing to do―he couldn’t find any fault with Potter’s logic. Therefore, rather than actively trying to turn working with Potter into something they both hated with a passion, he decided on a different approach altogether, one, he hoped, would benefit his and Potter’s relationship.</p>
<p>“Was that why you took a six-month-long sabbatical from the Aurors then? The press was all over that one.”</p>
<p>Potter rolled his eyes, then nodded.</p>
<p>Draco chuckled softly.</p>
<p>“They thought you’d lost the plot, couldn’t handle the pressure.”</p>
<p>Potter laughed.</p>
<p>He moved over to the empty chair in front of Draco’s desk and sat down.</p>
<p>“Six months isn’t bad, Potter, you know, in fact, it’s quite the achievement. It takes most wizards years to learn how to become an Animagus.”</p>
<p>Potter shrugged.</p>
<p>His eyes sparkled with pure, unadulterated mischief.</p>
<p>“I’m not most wizards,” he said.</p>
<p>Draco pressed his lips together to hold back a groan but gave Potter a look that said it all, <em>pompous arse</em>.</p>
<p>Potter’s guffaw was warm and rich, like slow-melting chocolate. It somewhat shocked Draco since he hadn’t expected to like it quite this much.</p>
<p>“I didn’t mean it that way, Malfoy. Apparently, it didn’t take my dad and my godfather more than a school year to become Animagi. I guess it’s in my blood, or at least I like to think that it is. Besides, I was determined to learn how to do it. Determination goes a long way.”</p>
<p>Draco smirked.</p>
<p>“Yes, stubbornness is one of the more common side effects of being sorted into Gryffindor,” he said. “So, what’s your animal form then?”</p>
<p>The question resulted in the playful smile, that had been teasing the edges of Potter’s mouth, to disappear completely. Suddenly, he looked solemn and glum, and Draco instantly knew that he’d somehow managed to hit a nerve. He didn’t quite understand how a simple question about Potter’s animal form had so drastically changed his demeanour, and his curiosity was instantly piqued, but unsure of what to say next―or whether to even say anything―Draco briefly stared at his hands. He clasped them together and pulled them apart again, then focused on the silver Malfoy signet ring on his right middle finger, he’d worn since forever. Part of him wanted to somehow goad Potter into revealing his animal form, but for some strange and entirely inexplicable reason, maturity won out, and he couldn’t bring himself to be quite so mean.</p>
<p>A few minutes of absolute silence passed between them, then Potter spoke.</p>
<p>“It used to be a stag, same as my dad’s.”</p>
<p>Draco frowned.</p>
<p>The creases in his forehead were so deep that he was utterly convinced that, by the end of the day, they’d become a permanent addition to his facial features.</p>
<p>“What do you mean it <em>used to be</em> a stag?” Draco asked. “One’s animagus form doesn’t change. Not ever. It’s not something that we wizards can control. Our personality and various other inner traits are the deciding factors of that transformation. Though they do say that if you do manage to master the art of transforming yourself into an animal, you’re very likely to take the form of your corporal Patronus.”</p>
<p>Potter sighed.</p>
<p>It was a soft sigh, one Draco assumed Potter had tried to suppress but hadn’t quite managed.</p>
<p>“Well, mine did. After the― the bite.”</p>
<p>Potter’s voice cracked a bit, and he instinctively cleared his throat.</p>
<p>Draco took a moment to digest the information Potter had just given him. It was a lot, and even though he knew that he’d only just scratched the surface, he already understood why Potter had demanded that he take a secrecy oath.</p>
<p>Harry Potter, Wizarding Britain’s Saviour and the Ministry’s pride and joy, being a skilful and accomplished Animagus was enough of a sensation for the papers. The fact that Harry Potter was also a werewolf, well, those were news that had the potential to rock not just Britain but the entire world and not just for a couple of months but quite possibly indefinitely. Draco was relatively convinced that such a bombshell would result in Potter’s immediate dismissal from his position as Head Auror. Things had changed a lot in the last decade, but Draco didn’t think that Britain was ready to accept the fact that the leader of the Auror force was a werewolf. Would they ever be quite this open?</p>
<p>“When did you get bitten?”</p>
<p>Draco couldn’t help his curiosity, he simply had to ask.</p>
<p>“About five years ago.”</p>
<p>Potter volunteered the information without hesitation.</p>
<p>“What happened?”</p>
<p>“It was late at night, I couldn’t sleep, so I apparated out into the woods, transformed into my animal form, and wandered through the thicket. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a bit, you know, switch off, not think about anything for a while. I figured spending some time in my animal shape would do the trick. That night, it was a full moon, which didn’t bother me at all, and I didn’t expect to run into any trouble, but I did. A werewolf chased me through the forest, and at first, I managed to escape it, but in the end, it caught up with me after all. I suspect it picked up my scent, and well, it ambushed me and got me good.”</p>
<p>Potter fell silent there, but only for a moment, then he spoke again.</p>
<p>“I nearly died that night, I think. The pain was absolutely excruciating. My memories of that night are a bit hazy, but I think I somehow transformed back into my human form and managed to produce a Patronus to send for help. Ron and Hermione rescued me. They took me to Bill and Fleur’s place, patched me up, and― and, well, there’s isn’t really any and.”</p>
<p>Potter stopped talking for good. He leant back in his chair, then sat up straight, threw one leg over the other, uncrossed them again, and finally put one arm other the other so that each hand rested on the opposite elbow. It wasn’t necessarily a gesture of defiance―Draco thought―but more because Potter seemingly didn’t have anything else to do.</p>
<p>Draco took a moment to digest all that information, then he shook his head.</p>
<p>Since the war, a lot had changed. Things were so much better. Outdated laws had been reviewed and improved. The anti-werewolf legislation had been abolished two years before Potter had been bitten, and new policies had been drafted and put into effect.</p>
<p>Wizarding Britain was a lot more inclusive now, and Draco, who’d religiously kept up with the developments in that regard, knew that a lot of the changes were the result of Hermione Granger’s obstinate unwillingness to take no for an answer. When it came to changing Wizarding Britain’s laws, she was an uncompromising, persistent, and tenacious force to be reckoned with.</p>
<p>Despite all the stupid things he’d said to her during their Hogwarts years, Draco admired her. To get recognition for his own work, he’d silently taken a page out of her book, namely the one that said not to give up no matter what obstacles people threw in his way or what burning hoops they demanded him to jump through.</p>
<p>Given his family’s history, most people―and that included the Ministry―weren’t exactly inclined to listen to anything he had to say. In the beginning, it hadn’t mattered that he could back his research up, that he had iron-clad scientific proof of his proposed changes to radically overhaul several extremely complex potions brewing recipes. In several instances, his suggestions to improve the way the magical elixirs were made, made the potions more affordable, as well as improved their effectiveness.</p>
<p>But the constant rejections hadn’t stopped Draco.</p>
<p>Time after time the Ministry had shown him the door, and time after time he’d returned, bringing more evidence, demonstrating that his updated recipes worked. He’d even gone as far as outright monopolising the press to get the Ministry to listen.</p>
<p>In the end, it had worked.</p>
<p>He’d proven his worth and was now a vital member of the Wizengamot’s newly founded Potions Committee. Along with six other members, he oversaw the radical overhaul of all kinds of potions, elixirs, draughts, and tinctures, most of which were terribly out of date and in desperate need of an update. Granted, he did most of the actual work, which included hours of research, experiments, and liaising with Potions Experts from all over the world, but he finally had the support he needed ― at least officially and on paper. As for the funds…well, that was an entirely different matter.</p>
<p>Draco pulled himself out of his own head and focused on Potter.</p>
<p>“So, you were in your animal form when the werewolf attacked.”</p>
<p>Potter merely nodded.</p>
<p>“I was,” he said and uncrossing his arms, he dropped them into his lap.</p>
<p>“I see.”</p>
<p>Draco sat forward and reaching for a blank parchment and his favourite quill, he took a few notes to keep things clear in his head.</p>
<p>“Your animal form― What is it now?”</p>
<p>Potter looked decidedly uncomfortable, harrumphed, and let his eyes dart around the room without focusing on anything.</p>
<p>“A wolf,” he eventually said, his voice nothing but a low whisper.</p>
<p>Draco frowned.</p>
<p>“What do you― A wolf? A werewolf?”</p>
<p>Potter shook his head.</p>
<p>“No, an actual wolf. You know, like a dog, only from about 40,000 years ago.”</p>
<p>Draco laughed.</p>
<p>He couldn’t help it.</p>
<p>Potter’s sudden bout of humour―while somewhat ill-placed―was impossible to ignore. It simply got to him, wormed its way underneath his skin and stayed there. He laughed for a good minute or two, then managed to calm himself and waving his hand he spelt a blotch of ink off the parchment.</p>
<p>“Good one, Potter, well done.”</p>
<p>Potter gave him a lop-sided grin.</p>
<p>“I try,” he said with a shrug.</p>
<p>Draco chuckled softly under his breath.</p>
<p>“Can you still shift into your animal form at will?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Could you shift right now?”</p>
<p>Potter nodded.</p>
<p>“I could. But I’d rather not.”</p>
<p>For a moment, Draco was tempted to push Potter, force him into shifting, but he didn’t actively pursue the idea.</p>
<p>“What about during a full moon? Do you shift?”</p>
<p>Potted inclined his head.</p>
<p>“Yes, that’s the one night of the month I can’t control it. A couple of days before the full moon the urge to shift is so intense that I need to shift at least once a day to appease the werewolf inside me and during a full moon I have no control over it at all, none. It just happens. I shift and that is that.”</p>
<p>“Do you turn into a werewolf?”</p>
<p>Potter shook his head, quite vehemently so.</p>
<p>“No, I just turn into my Animagus form and stay that way until the next morning. I do generally have the desire to run wild, but I don’t turn into a blood-thirsty monster. I don’t hunt or kill other animals or humans. I do have a voracious appetite for meat, though.”</p>
<p>Draco put his quill down and sat back in his chair. He took a deep breath, held it in for a moment, and tried his hardest to digest what he’d just heard.</p>
<p>Potter was an Animagus.</p>
<p>He was also a werewolf.</p>
<p>His animal form had once been a stag, now he turned into a wolf.</p>
<p>An actual wolf.</p>
<p>Not a werewolf.</p>
<p>But a wolf.</p>
<p>A wild carnivorous mammal that lived and hunted in packs.</p>
<p>But Potter didn’t hunt.</p>
<p>And he didn’t kill.</p>
<p>Draco exhaled slowly but not inaudibly.</p>
<p>“Who knows?”</p>
<p>“The Weasleys. Hermione. McGonagall. Slughorn. That’s about it.”</p>
<p>“What about any of the werewolf specialists at St Mungo’s?”</p>
<p>Potter instantly looked appalled and thoroughly outraged.</p>
<p>“Malfoy, are you bloody mental? If they knew about this, they’d lock me up and turn me into a piece of research, a ghastly scientific experiment.”</p>
<p>Draco held up his hands in defence.</p>
<p>“I was just asking. Even if I could, I’ve no intention of telling anyone.”</p>
<p>“That’s a relief.”</p>
<p>Potter’s words were mocking rather than sincere, but Draco didn’t take the bait. He surprised himself with it, but his mind was racing, and he was still trying to make sense of everything Potter had told him.</p>
<p>It made no sense at all.</p>
<p>Following the bite, and after shifting back into his human form, Potter should have either succumbed to his injuries―</p>
<p>Draco didn’t have an ‘<em>or’</em>.</p>
<p>If he was perfectly honest, he didn’t have anything, nothing at all.</p>
<p>He was thoroughly baffled.</p>
<p>Around the time Potter had been bitten, he’d radically overhauled the brewing of Wolfbane Potion.</p>
<p>He’d not only made it far more accessible but also established an international charity organisation that worked tirelessly to provide those, who desperately needed it―but couldn’t afford the outrageously expensive potion―with a regular supply.</p>
<p>To date, the foundation was one of his most successful ventures, and he was immensely proud of what he’d achieved. It had taken years of hard work, and he’d managed to do a lot of good, but he was far from done. His goal was to be involved in the drafting of a new law that made Wolfbane Potion available to everyone who needed it. Being part of the Wizengamot’s Potions Committee improved his chances of realising that dream.</p>
<p>A curious thought struck Draco, and he couldn’t help but ask.</p>
<p>He simply had to know.</p>
<p>“Do you take Wolfbane?”</p>
<p>Potter shook his head, quite vehemently so.</p>
<p>“No,” he said.</p>
<p>Draco inhaled sharply.</p>
<p>“No,” he repeated, then frowned.</p>
<p>“So, what do you need from me then?”</p>
<p>Draco was almost sure that Potter’s cheeks had pinked somewhat, that he was blushing, and his reluctance to answer the question without stalling for several minutes only served to convince Draco that he was right. He instinctively filled the information away for future reference but once again didn’t act on it, didn’t taunt Potter, didn’t make fun of him, or make him uncomfortable in another way.</p>
<p>“I’d like your help.”</p>
<p>Potter’s voice had softened considerably, and Draco found it almost endearing. The thought also mildly terrified him, and he pushed the feeling to the furthest―and darkest―corner of his mind, slammed the door and locked it several hundred times.</p>
<p>“I’d gathered as much; I just don’t know what exactly you’d like me to do. You’re― Your condition― You’re a conundrum.”</p>
<p>“I’ll take conundrum over anything the press, the ministry, or any healer in the world would say about me.”</p>
<p>Draco smiled.</p>
<p>“Conundrum it is then, Potter. Now, I believe you were about to tell me how you’d like me to help you?”</p>
<p>“Was I?”</p>
<p>Potter’s smirk was both infuriating and amusing.</p>
<p>Draco stubbornly decided to remain completely nonchalant, if only to punish himself for his wayward thoughts about Potter.</p>
<p>“You were. I didn’t sign that nifty little paper of yours for nothing.”</p>
<p>Potter huffed out a breath of laughter.</p>
<p>“It’s a bit embarrassing.”</p>
<p>Draco shrugged.</p>
<p>“I promise I won’t go blabbing.”</p>
<p>“Ha―bloody―ha.”</p>
<p>Potter’s sneer was almost as good as his own and Draco couldn’t help but wonder―and not for the first time either―whether Potter had indeed been sorted into the right house all those years ago. He doubted it. Anyone who could talk the Sorting Hat out of its decision surely belonged into Slytherin… Or perhaps, they were simply a special brand of Gryffindor? Someone unique? Draco abandoned that thought. Potter was certainly one of a kind, but entertaining that thought meant putting him up onto a pedestal and Draco wasn’t willing to do that.</p>
<p>“As of late, I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my shifts. Well, if I’m perfectly honest, I’ve been having a bit of trouble for the last year and a half or so, but it’s been getting progressively worse, and it’s started to impact my work.”</p>
<p>Draco rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“Figures you’d leave it until the last minute to seek help.”</p>
<p>Potter looked affronted.</p>
<p>“I didn’t―Mione tried to help, she did a whole bunch of research, but she thought you were more qualified.”</p>
<p>Draco felt his eyes widened before he had the chance to control his reaction.</p>
<p>Granger had told Potter to come to him. Why?</p>
<p>The Hermione Granger―the one he’d insulted for years, over and over, out of ignorance and the inability to see the difference between right and wrong. She’d sent Potter to him.</p>
<p>Salazar’s snake.</p>
<p>Draco exhaled sharply and shifted in his seat.</p>
<p>“I see,” he said, then coughed to clear his throat. “And what is it that I’m apparently more qualified to do?”</p>
<p>Potter dithered again, and several minutes of silence passed before he spoke. He did so without meeting Draco’s gaze and rather than lifting his head, he stared at his hands, admiring his fingernails as though today was the very first time he was looking at them.</p>
<p>“The wolf in me, it reacts to my moods, I think. Especially when I’m angry about something, excited, or stressed. It’s as if the full moon has come early and I get this intense need to shift that I just don’t know how to resist. I used to be able to ignore it, will it away, but it’s been getting harder and harder. These past few months, I found myself running from meetings and locking myself in my office just to be able to give in to the shift. So far, I’ve always managed to get to a place where I could shift without being seen, heard, or disturbed, but each time the wolf takes control, it’s getting more and more difficult to escape. You see, when I’m fighting to stop myself from turning into a wolf in the middle of the Ministry’s Atrium, I can’t very well apparate or floo. I just don’t have the energy to spare the concentration it requires. Even casting a simple unlocking spell usually ends with the shift starting prematurely.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chasing The Thrill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>Not in any rush at all to make a move, Harry remained right where he was, and even though he wasn’t actively staring at Draco, he knew exactly where in the room he was and what he was doing.</p>
<p>His wolfish side had taught him to always pay attention to everything that was in his peripheral vision, and over the years, it had become an instinct, second nature even.</p>
<p>These days, Harry was, always, aware of what was going on around him. Even when it didn’t seem like it. He’d mastered the art of appearing to be miles away yet―at the same time―be mindful of his surroundings.</p>
<p>An animal that ignored its inherent disposition to remain alert and conscious risked getting itself killed, or so his wolf had repeatedly told him.</p>
<p>Harry had, on more than one occasion, tried to make his wolf aware of the fact that he wasn’t in the wild, and that nobody was hunting him. His wolf, however, hadn’t accepted any of his objections, had blatantly rejected him, dismissed them as the frivolous ideas of a defenceless human; a strange human being knew nothing about what it meant to live the life of a wolf.</p>
<p>In the beginning, Harry had cursed that part of him. He had desperately wished it gone, had wanted nothing to do with the beast that resided inside of him, had become an inseparable part of him.</p>
<p>Back then, finding a way to live with the wolf inside of him had been so tough that, on more than one occasion, Harry had seriously contemplated breaking into the Department of Mysteries (again) to steal a time-turner.</p>
<p>Anything to turn back time to before the bite.</p>
<p>Anything to be normal again, or―considering that it had been him who’d defeated Voldemort―as close to normal as he could ever hope to be.</p>
<p>At first, his wolf’s constant backtalk had driven him crazy. They’d disagreed about everything and anything. There was nothing his wolf didn’t have an opinion on, and it had insisted―time and time again―that it knew better. That kind of arrogance had often left Harry seething with anger, especially since his wolf thrived on reminding him―firmly and repeatedly―that he was, in fact, a defenceless human and that his peers wouldn’t hesitate to strike him down if they knew what he’d become. It had, countless of times, reminded him he was a novelty and things and people that were unusual generally scared those who didn’t understand.</p>
<p>All that had been a hard lesson to learn, and Harry still vividly remembered that desperate battle of wills. It hadn’t made accepting his wolfish side any more straightforward. In fact, it had only made it more difficult. Somehow, his wolf always stood up for itself, always had something to say, and generally refused to back down. Whenever Harry had tried to actively ignore that part of him, his wolf had retaliated with angry growls and made every effort to make his life miserable.</p>
<p>In the end, Harry had given up.</p>
<p>Fighting with himself was tiring and led to nothing. So, gradually―and after several very long conversations with his best friends―conversations his wolf had approved of―he’d chosen a different approach. Instead of fighting what and who he’d become, he’d decided to grow and had learnt to listen to his wolf. Time had taught him to live in harmony with the wolf that governed half of everything he was.</p>
<p>It had taken a little over two years, but they’d managed to come to an understanding, and these days, Harry relied on his wolf. They’d become a team, worked as one, thought as one, and acted as one.</p>
<p>Harry smiled to himself and letting his gaze casually wander around the room, he allowed his eyes to briefly settle on Draco. He was still sat on his custom-made piano stool.</p>
<p>The stool had been there for a few years, and as such, it was well worn, but Harry could still smell the scent of its leather upholstery. It was faint, and he had to strain to separate it from all the other smells in the room, but it was there; rich, earthy, and slightly sweet ― mild and easy on the nose.</p>
<p>Something about his ability to pick out even the faintest of scents filled Harry with glee: it certainly hadn’t been something he’d always known how to do, and sometimes it was a tad bit annoying, but for the most part, he could handle his over-sensitive hooter. So far, it had served him well, and life was most definitely more vibrant because of it.</p>
<p>Somehow, his improved sense of smell, his acute hearing, his strength, and the fact that his wolf always had his back, made for a better life experience altogether. He’d become a more sensual type of person, someone who truly valued nature and thrived because of it.</p>
<p><em>Thank you</em>, Harry thought to himself, and a burst of warmth exploded somewhere behind his heart and spread through him, leaving him feeling content and happy.</p>
<p><em>You’re welcome, cub</em>.</p>
<p>Harry frowned inwardly but ignored his wolf’s little dig at his inexperience. It didn’t happen very often, but occasionally his wolf liked to be a bit cheeky, though it was always careful not to infuriate him.</p>
<p>Harry pushed most of his musings aside and focusing on the here, and now, he finished his half-eaten sandwich, then reached for a second, and polishing that one off too, he drank all of his coffee, then poured himself a second mug full of his favourite beverage. The fact that it was already evening made absolutely no difference to him. Caffeine had zero effect on him; the wolf inside of him was entirely immune to the stimulant. It was the taste that had drawn Harry to the beverage, and even then, he was ridiculously picky when it came to what beans from which region of the coffee belt he preferred. Tea wasn’t something his wolfish side tolerated. Harry had tried, sampling everything from white teas all the way up to black. He’d tried herbal teas and fruit teas, but with no success.</p>
<p>As a result, and desperate for a hot beverage to enjoy that wasn’t alcoholic or overly sweet, he’d been forced to find a new drink to fall in love with. It had taken him several months to settle on a brew the wolf in him didn’t immediately reject, but eventually, they’d both managed to come to an understanding. It didn’t matter whether it was six o’clock in the morning or eleven o’clock at night, coffee had become Harry’s drink of choice, and his wolf never had any objections.</p>
<p>Savouring one last mouthful of his coffee, Harry, albeit somewhat reluctantly, parted company with the mug that contained his favourite beverage. He left it sitting on its coaster on the table, and walked back over to Draco, who, the moment he approached the piano, looked up at him with a strange half-frown edged into his forehead. He looked cautious with a smidgen of distrust thrown in. Just for good measure, of course.</p>
<p>Harry grappled with his desire to smirk.</p>
<p>“What are you up to, Potter?” Draco asked.</p>
<p>He folded his arms over his chest, and Harry pretended that he hadn’t noticed the appreciating once-over Draco had just, ever so casually, given him. Instead, he leant against the side of the piano and with a lopsided grin, he arched a single eyebrow at Draco.</p>
<p>“Whatever are you insinuating, Malfoy? I’m not up to anything. The same, however, cannot be said about you.”</p>
<p>Harry allowed his grin to morph into a dirty and irritatingly smug smirk.</p>
<p>Being half-wolf-half-human most definitely gave him an advantage in pretty much all aspects of life. He saw and heard better than most people, his sense of smell was a lot more developed, and he had far more energy and strength. His shoulders were broader, his muscles more muscular, and his entire physique was solidly built. After the war, he’d made a point of exercising regularly, not only because being an Auror demanded that he kept fit but also because it brought him joy.</p>
<p>There wasn’t much that escaped his notice. Having had years to acquaint himself with the fact that he shared his body with a wolf meant that he was extremely confident when it came to asserting his presence in the room (or melt into the background and remain almost entirely unseen). Both being assertive and present, as well as staying reticent worked in his favour.</p>
<p>Draco’s instant annoyance over his un-Gryffindorish, but very much Slytherin-like, behaviour amused Harry more than he knew it should. He watched as Draco ran his fingers through his hair, messing up his perfectly styled blond locks. Most days, Draco kept his hair tied together at the back. He usually did it to stop it from falling into his face while he did his research, wrote papers, or brewed potions. However, occasionally―mainly when Harry was around―he made the one or other exception to that rule.</p>
<p>Tonight, Draco’s hair was loose. The long strands cascaded down over his shoulders, framing his face quite beautifully. It had a zesty smell to it, which reminded Harry of fresh lemons, and a sweet, tangy smell, which Harry found pleasantly stimulating and quite exciting. Then there was also the somewhat citrusy vibrant smell of bergamot and the woodsy, soft aroma of sandalwood, both components of Draco’s preferred perfume. It was a concoction, Harry was rather partial to, and he, almost unconsciously, leant a bit closer to inhale more of it. On top of being extraordinarily talented when it came to brewing potions, Draco was also rather skilled at mixing various essential oils and other ingredients to create the most wonderful of smells, which he sold at outrageous prices.</p>
<p>A small sum of that money went to towards acquiring pure essential oil, and other ingredients, of the highest quality, but most of his proceeds from that little side-venture went to fund the ever-rising expenditures of his charity.</p>
<p>“It suits you better like this, you know.”</p>
<p>Harry deliberately lowered his voice, infused it with warmth and gave it a husky undertone that had Draco shift on his piano stool. It was a small shove, almost unnoticeable, but Harry could hear the friction of Draco’s exquisite tailor-made black trousers rubbing against the stool’s smooth leather. Harry’s ears also picked up on the way Draco breathed; heavier and slightly more laboured as though he’d just walked up several flights of stairs, though, perhaps, not quite as obvious. His heart was most definitely beating faster, and when he spoke, his voice was softer and deeper, evidence of the fact that the muscles that controlled his vocal cords, had tightened up slightly.</p>
<p>“What suits me better like what?” Draco asked with a tiny creak in his voice.</p>
<p>Harry smiled.</p>
<p>He took a moment to stare directly into Draco’s silvery-grey eyes and watched as his pupils dilated, and his eyes grew darker. There was a hunger in his eyes that drove Harry wild with desire, but he controlled himself and remained perfectly calm and still. Instead of looking away and focusing on something else, perhaps reaching for his tea or resuming to play another piece on the piano, Draco, eyebrows slightly raised, continued to hold his gaze. His stare was intense and unwavering, but it didn’t faze Harry in the slightest. This wasn’t the first time Draco had stared him down, or at least tried to do so. It was his way of convincing himself that he was still in control, and, Harry supposed, a (rather pathetic) attempt to stop himself from jumping up and continuing their conversation in the bedroom.</p>
<p>Harry rather enjoyed the steadily rising tension between them. The idea that Draco, who was usually so perfectly composed, and in total control of his emotions and reactions, was tethering on edge, that sweet spot right between keeping his cool and losing all his inhibitions. He parted his lips as if to answer Draco’s earlier question but ran his tongue over his lips instead and watched Draco swallow hard, then he, too, slowly, and carefully, as if to prolong his own torture just that little bit longer, licked his lips.</p>
<p>“Your hair,” Harry finally said, though this time he whispered the words. “I like it when you keep it open like this.</p>
<p>Draco gave a small, embarrassed, cough and a light flush pinked his cheeks.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” he murmured.</p>
<p>Harry smiled.</p>
<p>A moment of silence past between them both and Harry wondered whether he’d managed to wrap Draco around his little finger or whether he’d have to try a little harder. He decided to put in a little bit more effort, just to be sure.</p>
<p>“I can smell it on you,” he said, speaking softly, almost purring the words into the small space between him and Draco.</p>
<p>Draco’s flush intensified, and he coughed again.</p>
<p>“Smell what?” he asked.</p>
<p>Harry chuckled.</p>
<p>He leant a bit closer, licked his lips, and closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, letting Draco’s unique scent cloud his senses. Inside, his wolf howled, voicing its approval.</p>
<p><em>Want</em>, it growled as Harry’s own desire thickened and he barely managed to resist from leaping forward, grabbing Draco, throwing him over his shoulder and dragging him to the bedroom. He’d tried that once, but Draco hadn’t appreciated that primal act, not in the slightest. In fact, he’d given him such a hard time about it, that Harry had, albeit reluctantly, learnt to rein himself in. He now managed to control himself much better and used different, slightly more refined, strategies to achieve his goal. He tried to at least.</p>
<p>“You know exactly what I can smell,” he said with a dirty smirk which was part of a truly somewhat lecherous expression, he didn’t even attempt to hide.</p>
<p>However, much to Harry’s astonishment, Draco didn’t take his bait. He merely raised a single eyebrow at him, held his gaze for the longest time, and then, as if having regained all control over his body, he reached for his tea and took several small sips. Draco straightened up a little more, and even though the glass cup concealed nearly all of Draco’s face, Harry caught a glimpse of the sly smile that ghosted around the left corner of his mouth.</p>
<p>“How was your run this morning? Did you find Accalia?”</p>
<p><em>Touché</em>, Harry thought, silently applauding Draco on the eloquent way with which he’d changed the topic, going from a heavily flirtatious and sexually charged mood to ordinary small talk in a matter of seconds. <em>Fine, we’ll play by your rules then, Malfoy, but only because I, well, we, love a good chase and chase you we will, you can be sure of that.</em></p>
<p>The wolf in him growled in approval and lest he gave himself away, Harry bit back a smug grin.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Flashback: The Shift That Changed Everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>“What do you mean it doesn’t work?” Potter yelled at the top of his lungs, nostrils flaring dangerously as red-hot, raw anger―though Draco suspected it was frustration disguised as anger―freely flowed through him, controlling every aspect of his emotions.</p>
<p>Potter’s voice―high-pitched and loud―echoed around Draco’s spacious office, and a blast of his magic, wild and uncontrolled, rattled the shelves, sending one of the logs in the fireplace flying. The flames hissed, instantly enveloped the dry block of wood, and gobbled it right up.</p>
<p>For a moment, the flames burnt with fervent gusto; bright, large, and somewhat intimidating. It almost felt like a warning, a foreboding of some kind, and Draco shuddered inwardly. He tried his hardest not to think back that fateful day in the Room of Requirement when everything around him had gone up in flames, but for a moment, his mind went there anyway. It was only because of Potter that he’d made it out alive pretty much unscathed. Well, the soles of his shoes had been slightly melted, and the laces had been badly-singed.</p>
<p>Refusing to let the past get the better of him, Draco roughly shoved that memory into the furthest corner of his mind, resolutely dragged his gaze away from the miniature firestorm inside his fireplace, and looked straight at Potter.</p>
<p>His expression was thunderous, edging towards murderous, and Draco couldn’t help but wonder whether he should draw his wand. His casting hand twitched, but he made the conscious effort to resist the temptation, at least for now. Duels with Potter never ended well.</p>
<p>Back at Hogwarts, he’d seen Potter lose his temper on a few occasions, but it simply didn’t compare to the all-consuming fury that, right this very moment, flowed through Potter, just like molten lava. It was truly a sight to behold.</p>
<p>His emerald eyes had turned into narrow slits and glinted with a hint of danger while his forehead continued to crease. Potter’s face was flushed, glowing crimson red, and his jaw locked tight. He’d drawn his lips back in a snarl, flashing his pearly white teeth in the process. His fists were clenched tightly at his side, and Potter’s untamed, raw magic continued to wreak havoc around the room, creating something that bordered on a thunderstorm in an enclosed space. There weren’t any low-hanging dark clouds covering the ceiling, the skies hadn’t parted, and there was no thunder and lightning, but the overall feeling was much the same.</p>
<p>Draco’s silver dagger-shaped letter opener flew off his desk and dropped to the floor. The blade pierced the wooden floor, and Draco took a cautious step backwards. The bookshelves all around him continued to creak and crack while the air in the room―loaded with taut, electric tension―throbbed, and thrummed. It was all quite surreal and certainly not a situation Draco had ever found himself in before this moment. Then again, spending time with Potter always added an element of unpredictability.</p>
<p><em>Say something</em>, Draco told himself.</p>
<p>He quite desperately wanted to do something that might appease Potter, wanted to try to get him to calm down again, but he couldn’t think of anything sensible to say or do. Having to acknowledge that, even if it wasn’t out loud for anyone to hear, pained him a great deal. Nearly eighteen months of research, travel, and various experiments and, for the first time ever, he had nothing to his name, absolutely nothing.</p>
<p>Well, he had something; a six-foot-tall pile of notes to document his fruitless attempts to help Potter control his shifts. The transformations had gotten so bad that, three months ago, Potter had been forced to seek out Minister Shacklebolt and apply for what Potter, stubbornly, still referred to as another sabbatical. But Draco knew that if he couldn’t find an answer to Potter’s predicament any time soon, Potter’s extended leave would turn into a permanent and premature retirement from the DMLE. If his shifts had been bad before, no longer overseeing the Aurors had made things ten times worse, and Draco was desperately searching for a silver lining, anything to point him into the right directions and offer some much-needed relief.</p>
<p>So far, and no matter how far-fetched his idea had been, everything they’d tried had failed. There was not a single spell that could control Potter’s shifts, and no matter how much effort Draco put into tweaking the original Wolfsbane recipe, or how he amended the list of ingredients, it did nothing for Potter. Draco had searched far and wide, read through every book that mentioned either werewolves or animagi or both, even publications written in languages he didn’t speak and for which he required dictionaries and complex translation spells, but nothing.</p>
<p>He struggled to believe that no wizard, or witch, had ever been bitten by a werewolf while in their animal form and it thoroughly irked him that he couldn’t find the answer to Potter’s peculiar problem. He’d looked at it from every angle, but a definite answer, a figurative tail he could chase, continued to elude him, and he refused to believe that in the entire history of magic, Potter’s situation was yet another first.</p>
<p>Somehow, over the last two years, he’d managed to get so emotionally invested in finding a way to help Potter that giving up simply wasn’t an option. At least not anymore. He’d thought about often during the first six months, but now he was in too deep. He’d turned nearly every stone and searched every magical library’s dusty corner. He’d sourced rare Healer’s journals from across the globe, and, feigning personal interest as well as using his research as a clever disguise, he’d even spoken to a several very knowledgeable people abroad. A few leads had seemed promising, but in the end, whenever he presented them to Potter, something wasn’t right and Potter, despite trying his hardest to work with him―so far, he’d been to the wildest, craziest suggestions―saw no improvement to his predicament.</p>
<p>“I’ll find an answer,” Draco mumbled, though, right this moment, he couldn’t bring himself to believe his own words let alone try and make them sound believable to someone else. They seemed to be nothing more but a hollow excuse and sounded more like a veiled defeat than anything else. A flurry of anger flowed through Draco and not knowing at whom or what to direct it to, he swallowed hard and watched as Potter continued to seethe in front of him.</p>
<p><em>You’ve every right to</em>, he thought bitterly.</p>
<p>Even though a part of him wanted to snap at Potter and tell him to take his uncontrollable outburst and go to hell, he perfectly understood why Potter struggled to keep his emotions in check, especially now. It wasn’t so much actual anger that fuelled his rage but frustration, desperation, and sadness. He felt lost, hopeless, and he most definitely missed his job, that much was clear to Draco. Potter hadn’t outright said so, but Draco was convinced that he felt rather useless. He’d tried to get Potter to help him with his charity and thought of other ways to keep him busy. In the end, leaving him to travel to Hogwarts, shift and chase but not kill innocent rabbits through the Forbidden Forest until he’d managed to exhaust himself seemed like the most reasonable solution. Strangely enough, it was something that kept Potter sane.</p>
<p>Allowing his shoulders to sag a bit, Draco looked at Potter―stared at him from across the room more likely―and frowned when Potter suddenly flinched and instinctively moved backwards.</p>
<p>Something in his facial expression changed, and with a slightly pained look, he pressed his lips tightly together. It made him look like a strange mixture of someone who was holding his breath to avoid having to tolerate the pungent smell of blue cheese and someone who was fighting an internal battle.</p>
<p>It didn’t take Draco more than a few seconds to work out that Potter was―quite vehemently―trying to resist a shift, was fighting against the wolf inside of him, and desperately clinging on to his human form, unwilling to give it up.</p>
<p>It did him no good.</p>
<p>The longer he suppressed the wolf, the fiercer it got, and the more of his magic Potter had to use to keep it hidden from view. It was a battle with only one outcome: slow but sure self-destruction.</p>
<p>Draco swallowed a sigh.</p>
<p>“Just shift already,” he said.</p>
<p>“No,” Potter growled through bared, gritted teeth.</p>
<p>With great difficulty, Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and call Potter an obstinate Gryffindork.</p>
<p>Instead, he drew his wand and with a flourishing swish, he cast an industrial-strength silencing charm to seal the office.</p>
<p>“Shift,” he said again.</p>
<p>This time he made a point to sound more resolute.</p>
<p>Potter’s emerald eyes flashed dangerously, he growled again. After a few more seconds of fending off the inevitable, he visibly relaxed, and Draco watched, with complete amazement, as Potter’s body lengthened and changed. He heard Potter’s bones creak though they didn’t break, watched as he transformed, effortlessly shifting from human to wolf. His arms and legs grew longer and thick fluffy-looking, messy black fur covered him from head to toe. Potter’s face changed shape too, his nose became larger, and his lips turned black. His jaw adjusted itself, his incisors lengthened considerably and a moment later, he spotted an impressive set of truly terrifying fangs.</p>
<p>Within seconds, the Harry Potter Draco knew, was gone. In his place was the biggest, most menacing-looking jet-black wolf Draco had ever seen. He’d asked Potter, and not just once, to reveal his wolf form to him, but so far, Potter had always refused. Today, it had been unavoidable.</p>
<p>Quite confident that his jaw had dropped several inches, Draco stared, fascinated.</p>
<p>Potter, much like the average dog, lowered his head and moved into a luxurious stretch, extending his front legs, and lengthening his spine until he felt that his body had thoroughly adjusted to his new shape. He then sat back on his hind legs, tilted his head, and howled at the ceiling. His cry was loud, and for a moment, Draco was convinced that his eardrums had exploded. In the immediate aftermath, his ears rang, and shaking his head, Draco tried to will the unwanted buzzing sound away.</p>
<p>It took a few seconds, but eventually, his ears relaxed somewhat and stepping out from behind his desk, Draco took a few cautious steps towards Potter, who eyed him warily and growled at him as if to tell him to keep his distance.</p>
<p>Draco chuckled softly.</p>
<p>“You don’t scare me,” he said, though that wasn’t entirely true.</p>
<p>In fact, it was quite far from the truth.</p>
<p>Draco was scared, very scared.</p>
<p>Yes, he’d seen wolves before, and yes, he’d also seen werewolves before, but always from a safe distance and not up close and personal. So far, he’d also always had additional protection, be that in the form of trained healers, Aurors, or special protective gear. Right now, all he had was his wand. There was literally nowhere for him to hide. Well, there was the small space under his desk, but that wasn’t an especially useful option. Running also wasn’t something he could consider since Potter was much closer to the door than he was. Still, though, there was a wilful and headstrong part of Draco that tried its hardest to get him to swallow his fear. It reminded Draco that Potter, despite being a werewolf, wasn’t out to kill him. Or at least Draco fervently hoped that Potter bore him no ill will.</p>
<p>Potter growled again and flashed him his set of impressive-looking fangs, which gleamed white as though he’d somehow polished them for extra shine.</p>
<p>Draco watched as Potter raised himself up onto all fours and squared his shoulders. He looked like he was about to pounce and it gave Draco pause. For a moment, the urge to back away, to run and hide under his desk, was almost too powerful to ignore, but even though a part of Draco―the part that heavily advocated for his self-preservation― was quite terrified, he resisted giving in to his primal instincts. He knew that, if Potter decided to pounce on him, he didn’t stand a chance. At the same time, something deep inside of Draco reassured him, told him he had absolutely nothing to be afraid of, and that while Potter looked thoroughly intimidating, he wasn’t going to hurt him. That wasn’t who Potter was. He wasn’t a homicidal, sadistic werewolf, unable to control himself or govern his own actions. No, Potter was something else altogether. A true puzzle Draco was rather desperate to solve.</p>
<p>Draco forced himself to crack a strange sort of half-smile.</p>
<p>Tilting his head slightly to the side, he sheathed his wand and showed Potter his hands. He could feel the tiny tremors that made them shake, resisted the desire to clench his fists and hoped that Potter hadn’t noticed. Instead, he tried his best to remain focused and made sure that his palms faced up and that his fingers remained relaxed and uncurled, then approached, slowly and without hurry.</p>
<p>“I’m not scared of you, Potter. I know you’re not a bloodthirsty monster, you’re something else entirely. I also know that you’re still in there, that you can hear me and I’m quite certain that you can also understand me. At least I hope you can, and unless you prove me otherwise, I’m going to continue assuming that. Please don’t prove me otherwise.”</p>
<p>Draco wasn’t sure whether he was trying to encourage himself with those words or whether he was trying to appeal to the human part of Potter, but since something stopped him from keeping his mouth shut, he kept on talking. He repeatedly told Potter that he wasn’t scared, and each time he said the words, he felt himself relax visibly while Potter remained vigilant and on guard.</p>
<p>Continuing to keep eye contact, Draco edged closer still.</p>
<p>He moved slowly, without hurry, trying to give Potter time to adjust, and once he was about two feet away, he gradually extended his hand. Part of him wondered whether Potter might lung forward and snap it right off, but he dismissed the idea as frivolous nonsense. Instead, he focused on allowing Potter to get familiar with his scent. He wasn’t sure whether it would improve the situation, but something told him that it was worth a try. Right this moment, Potter’s animal instincts governed his actions. Since Draco knew that wolves had an exceptionally well-developed sense of smell, he decided to―hopefully―use that to his advantage.</p>
<p>His hand trembled a little harder.</p>
<p>At this point, Draco didn’t know whether it was stupidity or his own dogged determination that kept him disapparating into thin air, but he refused to be a prat about this. Potter had asked him for help, and the last Draco wanted was for Potter to be ashamed of his wolf form. He didn’t want Potter to feel like the one person he’d turned to for help was terrified of him.</p>
<p>Potter let out a low growl and pausing, Draco huffed out a breath of air.</p>
<p>“I’d treat you like a Hippogriff and bow, but I’m not going to give you that satisfaction and make you the leader of his small pack, so do us both a favour and behave, OK?”</p>
<p>Potter lifted his head slightly and stared directly at him.</p>
<p>It was a provocative stare.</p>
<p>To Draco, it felt like Potter was deliberately trying to goad him into doing something stupid, but he refused to take the bait and instead of engaging in a battle of wills, Draco boldly shoved his open-palmed hand in front of Potter’s snout. All or nothing.</p>
<p>“I guess there’s a bit of Gryffindor in me too,” Draco mumbled with a low chuckle. “But if you ever bring this up in a conversation, Potter, I swear, I will find a way to permanently keep you in your wolf form and keep you as my oversized pet dog.”</p>
<p>Potter sniffed his hand, pulled back, and sneezed rather violently, but before Draco had the chance to get offended, he felt a gentle nudge. Potter’s snout was wet but warm and the more insistently it pushed into his hand, the more Draco reciprocated the gesture. He ran his fingers along the ridge of Potter’s nose, between his nose and over his head, right through Potter’s thick, black fur, and silently marvelling at the softness, he scratched Potter behind his left ear. Potter let out a low whimper and tilted his head to demand more. As he did, the lingering tension between them dissipated and letting out a soft belly laugh, Draco shook his head.</p>
<p>“You’re such a sucker for attention, Potter, and don’t even think about denying it.”</p>
<p>In a move entirely unlike him, Draco plonked himself onto the ground and sitting cross-legged, he gently grabbed Potter’s head and pulled it into his lap. Much to his surprise, Potter came willingly, and Draco continued to pet him gently. He wasn’t quite sure why he was doing this, but a small part of him―or perhaps even a large one―enjoyed the closeness. It was something he’d always wanted to experience, yet never actively pursued. His attraction to Potter wasn’t something he’d ever revealed to anyone. It was something that occupied his thoughts often―especially when Potter was around―but not something he’d ever shared with anyone. This, however, was the perfect excuse to get up close and personal without arousing suspicion.</p>
<p>“You’ve got to be the first wolf with emerald green eyes in existence,” he said, his voice soft and warm.</p>
<p>Potter let out a quiet growl, and Draco chuckled.</p>
<p>“Are you going to shift back any time soon?” he asked.</p>
<p>Potter whimpered softly and frowning, Draco to a few seconds to try and work out what that response might mean. He decided to try his luck and guess.</p>
<p>“You can’t?”</p>
<p>Potter lifted his head out of Draco’s lap, looked at him and something in Potter’s eyes told Draco that he’d guessed correctly.</p>
<p>“Hm, stay like this then, I don’t mind. You’re quite the handsome furry companion to have. Want me to take you somewhere to play fetch?” Draco teased with a wicked glint in his eyes and a bit of a smug grin. There was something utterly satisfying about baiting Potter.</p>
<p>Potter rewarded him with a growl―one that was supposed to warn him and stop him from taking this any further―and before Draco knew it, Potter had raised himself up to his full height. He moved forward, and Draco found himself flat on his back with Potter towering right above him.</p>
<p>“Brute,” Draco snarled.</p>
<p>Potter growled, snapped his teeth, and growled again. Draco tried to move away, out from underneath Potter, but much to his dismay Potter simply sat back on his hind legs. His behind pressed down on Draco’s thigh, and he found himself trapped.</p>
<p>“Stop that nonsense.”</p>
<p>Draco tried to sound menacing, but he didn’t quite manage to convey that emotion, at least not exceptionally well. Instead of giving his voice a threatening edge, he burst into a fit of giggles, and wrapping his arms tightly around Potter’s neck, he attempted to wrestle him to the ground.</p>
<p>Miraculously, Potter let him, but just when Draco thought that he’d gained the upper hand, Potter surprised him and licked his cheek. His large, pink tongue was wet and rough to the touch, and Draco pulled a face and shuddered with disgust. Warm wolf saliva now coated half of his face and covering his hand with the sleeve of his robes, he brought it up to wipe the sticky mess away. He succeeded in removing most of the wetness but could still feel the lingering tingling sensation of Potter’s lick. It made him shiver, and he pushed the thought out of his head, lest it decided to consume him, and he started to imagine what more of the same might feel like. It filled him with a strange sort of longing, and while he wasn’t particularly inclined to engage further with wolf-Potter’s tongue, he certainly rather liked the idea of human-Potter licking him all over. Still, he rather vehemently refused to allow the thought to fester and pushing it to the side, he focused on giving Potter an earful.</p>
<p>“Potter, you absolute beast. At least have the decency to take me out on a dinner date first before you slobber all over my face you uneducated heathen.”</p>
<p>The moment Draco had said those words, two things happened. First, he blushed profusely and trying his hardest to scramble to freedom, he looked away, trying to hide his steadily intensifying blush. Second, Potter whimpered softly, and a few moments later, he’d shifted back into his human form. The transformation was effortless, almost fluid, and unlike before, Potter didn’t even try to resist the shift.</p>
<p>Unsure why but content to remain on the floor, Draco moved into a sitting position and covering most of his face with his hand, he peeked through a gap between his fingers, looking at Potter, who stared at him with a thoroughly curious expression.</p>
<p>“Please tell me wolves don’t understand human,” he mumbled, wondering whether he could harness his magic and wandlessly force the ground to open so that it could swallow him alive. He already knew the answer to his somewhat desperate plea, and with a resigned sigh, he lowered his hand and stared at Potter, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a strangely crooked smile that bordered on a dirty smirk.</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you run?” he asked.</p>
<p>Draco frowned.</p>
<p>“Last I checked, Potter, this was my office, and just because you’re a wilful prat and decide to shift in the middle of a conversation that isn’t entirely going your way, doesn’t mean I’ll hand you the keys.”</p>
<p>Potter blinked.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t the wolf scare you?” he wanted to know.</p>
<p>Draco exhaled.</p>
<p>He hesitated for a few moments and thought of the right way to answer this question. He could think of several options, but instead of a lengthy explanation that had the potential to come across sounding more like an excuse than a reason, he settled for the shortest possible answer.</p>
<p>“You are the wolf, so no.”</p>
<p>A deep frown edged itself into Potter’s forehead, and Draco barely managed to stop himself from reaching out to smooth it away. The pads of his fingertips tingled and itched, and in response, he curled his fingers and rubbing them against his palm, he formed loose fists.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Potter asked.</p>
<p>Draco smiled and struck by sudden realisation; he suddenly felt like he had the answer or at least part of it, he’d spent nearly two years looking for.</p>
<p>“Exactly what I said. You aren’t a werewolf, that much I’m sure of, that much you’re sure of. You may have been bitten by one, but for some reason, it didn’t turn you into a full-fledged werewolf. I really don’t think you having been in your animal form had anything to do with it, so I’m going to assume that it’s somehow related to your background. Perhaps it’s something that runs in your blood or a result of what happened between you and Voldemort during the final battle. At this point, I’m only hypothesising, but I’m quite sure that, given the right amount of time, I can prove it. However, before I do any of that, please excuse me, I need to stop by the bathroom to wash all that wolf saliva off my face.”</p>
<p>With that, Draco rather resolutely picked himself off the ground, stood up, brushed his robes off and rearranged them a little to make himself look a bit more presentable. He moved towards the door, and by the time he’d reached for the door handle, Potter had also gotten to his feet.</p>
<p>Draco was about to push the handle down and pull the door open when Potter cleared his throat and instinctively turning his head, Draco looked back and stared at Potter, watching as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark-blue jeans.</p>
<p>“A date then,” Potter said.</p>
<p>Draco did an inward double-take, felt his eyes widen and furrowed his brows.</p>
<p>“What―?” he asked, but something in Potter’s eyes cut him off, and he fell silent.</p>
<p>“More like <em>when</em>, Malfoy.”</p>
<p>Potter’s smug grin somewhat infuriated Draco, but he refused to allow it to get to him, or at least make it obvious that Potter had just, somehow, wormed his way underneath his skin.</p>
<p>“Blast you and your wolf,” he mumbled without parting his lips.</p>
<p>Potter laughed.</p>
<p>His eyes danced with mirth.</p>
<p>“I heard that,” he said.</p>
<p>Draco rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“I’m sure you did.”</p>
<p>“Well then, dinner, next Friday night. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”</p>
<p>Draco blinked.</p>
<p>In a manner quite unlike him, he stared at Potter with an uncomprehending expression stuck to his face.</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>The somewhat stupid question slipped past slightly parted lips before he had the chance to stop it, and pressing his lips together, he firmly suppressed his emotions, unwilling to reveal anything else lest he embarrassed himself any further. Surely, Potter was having him on. There was no way, absolutely no way at all, Potter was even just remotely interested in him, at least not in that way.</p>
<p>“Because I’m interested in how you managed to solve the puzzle that is my wolf and me, but I’d also like to devote some time to properly snogging your face off, and since you insist on having dinner first, you leave me with no choice but to take you on a date someplace fancy.”</p>
<p>Draco shook his head.</p>
<p>Right this moment, little made sense to him, and despite his apprehension, he couldn’t bring himself to deny his interest. He wasn’t quite sure how Potter had managed to see through him, perhaps even sense that he sometimes fantasised about taking their relationship down a different road altogether. Still, somehow Draco’s barriers refused to rebuild themselves. Having dinner with Potter wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening. They’d had plenty of lunches before, surely turning eating together into an actual date wasn’t going to ruin things completely. Draco had no idea where his bout of bravery was coming from, but in a somewhat uncharacteristic move, he decided to roll with it. At least for the time being. He was sure that later, and once he was alone with his thoughts, he’d find a million and one reasons why having dinner with Potter was the worst idea ever. Still, right now, he was too baffled and most definitely not in possession of all his marbles to react in a more Malfoyesque manner.</p>
<p>“You, Potter, are a conundrum,” he said.</p>
<p>Potter laughed.</p>
<p>It was a hearty laugh that clearly rose from the depths of his belly and thrummed through his chest.</p>
<p>As he laughed, he also walked across the room and stopping right in front of Draco, he reached out and placed his hand on top of Draco’s, which was still resting on the door handle. Draco shuddered, and for a moment, he held his breath.</p>
<p>Potter pressed the handle down but didn’t pull the door open.</p>
<p>Instead, he leant closer, and Draco inhaled sharply but didn’t pull back.</p>
<p>They stood like this for several seconds, then Potter leant closer still, and Draco felt his warm breath ghost over his ear and shivered as a tingle of excitement trickled down his spine.</p>
<p>“To remove some of that confusion, Malfoy, I smelt it on you.”</p>
<p>In an instant, Draco’s mind flooded with a million and one questions, but before he could ask any one of them, Potter had already dragged the door open, squeezed through the gap, and left.</p>
<p>Confounded, Draco stood there, frozen to the spot and door handle still in hand.</p>
<p>
  <em>What. The. Fuck.</em>
</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Essence Of A Mate</h2></a>
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<p>Harry didn’t immediately answer Draco’s question.</p>
<p>Instead, he took his time to look at Draco, really look at him. He imagined slowly running his fingers through Draco’s hair and what it might feel like. The tips of his fingers tingled with anticipation and the memory of the last time he’d played with Draco’s hair. Those platinum-blond locks were incredibly soft to the touch, and Harry itched to twist his fingers into it and give it a bit of a playful tug. Not enough to hurt, he didn’t want that, but just enough to get Draco to tilt his head upward so that Harry could kiss him, really kiss him.</p>
<p>He wanted to kiss Draco until his lips were swollen, reddened, and glistened with a thin layer of his and Draco’s saliva. He wanted to plunge his tongue into Draco’s mouth and battle its counterpart; twist and wind around it until they were both breathless, flushed and thoroughly excited. Harry felt his heartbeat quicken and hastily lifted his gaze, determined to keep it together for just a little while longer.</p>
<p>He lost himself in Draco’s silvery-grey eyes and marvelled at their clarity and intense sparkle, and at the same time, they were thick prowling clouds in a thunderstorm, blurring Harry’s own vision and muddling his sense of direction. Draco’s eyes were eerily serene and wistfully ambitious, the kind of orbs one could spend hours getting lost in.</p>
<p>Some days and today was most definitely one of those days, Harry looked into Draco’s eyes and saw two deep but clear pools of the finest spring water in existence. They reminded him of the little spring he’d discovered deep inside the forbidden forest, and Harry longed to dive right in and swim until he’d reached the very bottom, the centre of Draco’s soul. There he wanted to make his permanent home.</p>
<p>Another thing that filled Harry with pure, unadulterated amazement was how Draco managed to look so open and vulnerable yet keep a certain portion of his guard up. He did it without the slightest bit of effort, or if it took any exertion at all, Draco knew how to hide that aspect perfectly. Harry had yet to figure out how he did all, which was why he was so in awe at the intricate balance of it all. Only Draco managed to walk that fine line of being both open and welcoming and wary at the same time.</p>
<p>The protective shield Draco used right now wasn’t the kind Draco used when he intended to keep people out, no, entirely on the contrary, it was the kind of guard he used when he tried to gauge what devious little trick Harry had up his sleeve. It was a little game they played and had been playing ever since they’d abandoned a strictly professional relationship in favour of adopting a more passionate form of spending time with each other; one that involved hours upon hours spent in bed, exploring, sharing fantasies, and just generally getting extremely frisky ― usually more than once and sometimes all night long. It also involved regular dates and holidays, and most recently, they were planning to move in together though Harry still struggled to comprehend how that part of their relationship was even up for discussion.</p>
<p>In his opinion, they already lived together. They hardly ever spent a night apart and if they had to it was because Draco was away on business. But apparently, and Draco had been quite adamant about that, bouncing back and forth between two places didn’t constitute as ‘living together’ ― the proper way to do it was to decide on one place and one place only. Harry still remembered how Draco had blown up when he’d tried to reason that magic made travelling from one place to the other extremely convenient. He’d never seen Draco lose his rack so quickly. It had been quite entertaining to be on the receiving end of an epic lecture, but Harry had been wise enough to keep his amusement to himself. Draco was extremely apt at stinging hexes and could hast them wandlessly and with a seemingly innocent wave of his hand. He never missed either.</p>
<p>Harry smiled.</p>
<p>Draco gave him a questioning look, and Harry watched as a light frown gradually creased his forehead. He loved how hard Draco tried to guess what he was up to and how involved and attentive he was. Still, no matter how much Draco tried, he never managed to guess, though that was mainly because Harry seldom stuck to any one plan. If something wasn’t working, he usually instantly abandoned that tactic and utilised a different skill altogether. In that regard, his wolf was rather observant. It never hesitated to tell him to try something different, to use another strategy, to attack from a new vantage point. They were the perfect team, working together, seamlessly passing responsibilities back and forth.</p>
<p>Not only did it keep things interesting, but it also ensured the best possible outcome. The difference between accepting his fate, and the fact that he’d been bitten by a werewolf, and really welcoming the wolf in him had truly changed Harry’s life, and he had Draco to thank for it. He’d been the one to figure it all out, had pieced it together, and supported him through the struggle of accepting his new life, a life he’d bend over backwards to try and get used to.</p>
<p>It had taken him months to come to terms with how surviving a werewolf attack had changed his life. In the beginning, Harry had thought that resigning himself to his fate would give him a sense of normalcy and allow him to somehow live a near-normal life. His wolf had proven him otherwise, and when he’d stubbornly ignored all the warnings and all the advice, his wolf had forced his hand, had practically―though initially out of pure desperation―driven him into Draco’s arms. Apparently, the average wolf only had so much patience before it took control of the pack―no matter how small―to ensure its survival.</p>
<p>Temporarily abandoning his musings, Harry refocused and settled in the here and now. He looked, continued to―quite deliberately―leave Draco hanging and thoroughly enjoyed watching as Draco tried to hide the fact that he couldn’t stop wondering what sly little game Harry had up his sleeve. It was a successful little ploy he often used when he wanted to distract Draco, who was usually exceptionally vigilant. However, and it had taken Harry quite some time to learn this, once sufficiently distracted, Draco generally lost the ability to thoroughly pay attention. Sure, he noticed far more than the average person, but with the help of his wolf, Harry was still able to sneak the one or other thing past Draco, much to Draco’s persistent annoyance, of course.</p>
<p><em>And so, the wolf charmed the dragon, and they lived happily ever after</em>, Harry mused and felt his wolf’s amusement thrum through his entire body. It was as if a rumble of warm, thick laughter rippled through him, laughter only he could hear and feel. Filled with happiness and thoroughly excited about hopefully spending an entire evening of quality time together with Draco, Harry instinctively leant a bit closer. He briefly cursed the fact that there was half a grand piano between him and Draco, promptly adjusted his stance, and reaching out, he placed a single finger on top of the back of Draco’s middle finger.</p>
<p>He rested it there for a moment, then applied the tiniest amount of pressure and Draco’s finger connected with one of the white piano keys beneath his fingertips. Harry had no idea what note he’d just made Draco play, and he didn’t care. Not much anyway. It sounded pleasant enough, though he was relatively sure that Draco would disagree. Harry appreciated piano music, especially when Draco played for him and him alone, but he couldn’t be bothered to learn the intricacies of it all. Mostly because he didn’t have the patience to sit and practise for hours.</p>
<p>Also, he was far too distracted by the fact that Draco’s skin was warm to the touch and oh so soft; soft and velvety smooth. Harry slowly dragged his finger up, over one of the knuckles, trailed over the back of Draco’s hand and let about half of his finger slip under the hem of the sleeve of Draco’s grey cashmere jumper as well as the loose silver leather band of the expensive Muggle wristwatch, Draco insisted on wearing. Lingering there, Harry lifted his gaze, and as he locked eyes with Draco, he allowed a crooked grin to tug at the corners of his mouth.</p>
<p>“I don’t need to find Accalia, gorgeous, she finds me. Always.”</p>
<p>Draco’s first reaction was to swallow hard.</p>
<p>Then he blushed.</p>
<p>It was just a faint flush, but it did several unspeakable things to Harry. Apart from fuelling his desire and increasing his arousal tenfold, a swarm of butterflies, that had been innocently sleeping in the pit of his stomach came to life and fluttered madly. It resulted in Harry’s stomach doing several somersaults that left him feeling just a tad bit dizzy as most of his blood rushed southward. His cock gradually filled out and thickened, but Harry paid it no heed.</p>
<p>Straightening up, Harry moved around the piano and towards Draco. With little effort, he wrapped his foot around one of the piano stool’s legs, and flexing his strong leg muscles, he pushed the stool back.</p>
<p>Draco gave a small yelp, his eyes narrowed and darkened, and he pressed his lips tightly together to express his disapproval.</p>
<p>Harry merely laughed.</p>
<p>He reached out and took Draco’s teacup from him.</p>
<p>For a moment the tea’s sweet scent distracted Harry from his mission, then he remembered the truly horrid taste and thoroughly disgusted, he promptly set the cup down on its coaster. His reaction seemed to visibly amuse Draco, but before he could say anything, Harry moved to sit astride Draco’s firm thighs. He placed his forearms on Draco’s shoulders and interlinked his fingers at the nape of Draco’s neck, trapping Draco’s beautifully soft hair beneath his bare skin.</p>
<p>“Entitled much, Potter?” Draco asked with a low drawl, feigning nonchalance.</p>
<p>At the same time, though, he wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, keeping him in place.</p>
<p>Harry relished in the softness of Draco’s cashmere jumper teasing his bare skin. When Draco’s fingertips pressed into the small of his back, he straightened a little and revelled in the jolt of electricity that shot up his spine and then trickled back down, pooling low in his groin, fuelling the smouldering fire that burnt there.</p>
<p>“Not entitled, but possessive, extremely possessive,” Harry said with a low chuckle.</p>
<p>The sound reverberated in the small space between him and Draco and glancing at Draco’s inviting lips, Harry licked his own in anticipation.</p>
<p>“I’m not your property, Potter. Never have been, never will be.”</p>
<p>Harry laughed.</p>
<p>It was a hearty laugh; full, warm, and filled with amusement.</p>
<p>“No, my property you’re not, but mine you are. Or did you forget that a wolf mates for life?”</p>
<p>Draco rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“I couldn’t forget, not even if I wanted to. You and your wolf make damn sure to remind me every other day.”</p>
<p>Harry grinned.</p>
<p>He tilted his head slightly to the side and blinked.</p>
<p>“You say that as if it doesn’t turn you on,” he teased.</p>
<p>Draco didn’t respond, at least not with words, and with a smile, Harry leant closer, bringing his lips within an inch of Draco’s. He parted his lips ever so slightly, licked his own, then flicked his gaze up to look into Draco’s eyes. He was too close to see clearly, but the fact that his vision was blurred didn’t bother him. Not in the slightest.</p>
<p>Instead of relying on his eyesight, Harry shifted his focus to his other senses, particularly his ability to feel and his sense of smell. He quite distinctly felt the slight tremor that surged through Draco, one that hinted at the existence of steadily building excitement, and Harry positively delighted in it. It was the same kind of tremor that he’d felt when he’d first reached out to touch the back of Draco’s hand. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he drew air through his nose and into every corner of his lungs. Draco’s scent filled his nostrils, and Harry smelt everything.</p>
<p>At first, he focused on the already familiar smell of Draco’s hair, and it’s citrusy and tangy qualities. Harry associated it with life and a strong and steady heartbeat that tirelessly pumped oxygen-enriched blood into every corner of Draco’s body, providing him with the most basic kind of sustenance he needed to survive.</p>
<p>Next was the soft woodsy smell of sandalwood, it was another familiar staple, one Harry loved deeply. Harry associated that with freedom, with running through the depths of the forest and being allowed to be truly free without having to worry about anything and anyone. It was a gift Draco had given him and as such the smell made Harry giddy with joy and sometimes also slightly foolish.</p>
<p>Whenever it did, Draco always took full advantage of his temporary loss of sanity, and in response, Harry pretended to be annoyed about it. It was another kind of game they played, a sweet and sexy back and forth, a grapple over who dominated whom.</p>
<p>There was also a juicy kind of sweetness, the kind Harry only ever smelt when Draco was excited when he wanted him. It was a smell that was so purely and uniquely Draco that there was nothing that smelt remotely like it. Harry had nothing to compare it to―and he didn’t know how to describe it either―but it was a smell that drew him in, one he simply couldn’t resist. It was the foundation of the kind of excitement that always―and without exception―led to more.</p>
<p>The intensity of it always blew Harry away. The first time he’d smelt it, he’d ended up asking Draco out on a date. That had happened right after he’d been forced into a shift when controlling his emotions had become impossible. Up until then, he’d stubbornly refused to allow Draco to see him in his animal form, yet the moment Draco had seen his other side, he’d figured it all out. One shift, followed by a couple months of experiments to prove his point, was all it had taken for Draco to turn his life around for good.</p>
<p>Harry swallowed past the large lump that had suddenly taken up residence in his throat and keeping his eyes firmly closed, he took another deep breath. This time, he focused entirely on the one smell that was Draco in his purest form and savoured every tiny nuance of it. It was a smell you simply couldn’t reproduce. There was nothing in nature that could replicate it. It was Draco’s very essence, and it awoke something fierce inside of Harry. Not only did it compel him to protect Draco, and to keep him safe from harm, it also made it entirely impossible to resist him. Ignoring that scent simply wasn’t an option. It was powerful enough to awaken something truly primal inside of Harry, something he hadn’t been able to feel before his bite. It was as if his wolf had unlocked a part of him the average human being no longer had access to.</p>
<p>Draco’s fingernails suddenly dug into the small of his back and snapping out of his daze, Harry opened his eyes. A strange sort of yelp escaped past his slightly parted lips, but before he could question Draco’s intentions, or ask him what he was playing at, Draco kissed him. It was a ferocious sort of kiss, the kind that drove Harry a little closer to temporary insanity. A rush of something intense surged through Harry. After sliding further up Draco’s clothed thighs―the slightly rough fabric of Draco’s black, tailored trousers scratched the back of Harry’s legs, ruffling the coarse hairs growing there―he wound his fingers into Draco’s hair. With handfuls of platinum-blond silken hair, he surrendered to the kiss.</p>
<p>Parting his lips further, Harry welcomed Draco’s prodding tongue, teased the very tip of it and coaxed it into his mouth. He sucked, lightly, gently, inviting a little more of Draco’s tongue into his mouth. Just enough for him to tease the side of Draco’s tongue with the tip of his own. Draco moaned softly into the kiss, and when he gradually withdrew his tongue, Harry chased after it. He twisted his fingers a little tighter into Draco’s hair, plunged his tongue into Draco’s mouth and kissed him as though his life depended on it. What with the fact that his naked chest was pressed up against Draco’s front, Harry could feel him struggle to breathe, felt his heart skip a bit here and there, but he didn’t stop kissing Draco, not even when Draco dug his nails into his skin.</p>
<p>The sharp pain momentarily pulled Harry a little out of his trance-like state, but it didn’t manage to distract him entirely. He kissed Draco a little harder, possessively claimed every inch of him and even though his own lungs burnt and protested, demanding more air, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he inhaled through his nose which filled with a more intense version of Draco’s essence and thoroughly intoxicated by it, Harry toyed with the idea of ripping Draco’s clothes off his body, but then he remembered the last time he’d given in to that desire.</p>
<p>Draco had been madder than mad and slightly terrified of a repeat performance, Harry grudgingly resisted chasing the tail of that rabbit. He breathed a little deeper and concentrated on what it felt like when Draco’s essence found its way into his bloodstream. His wildly beating heart pumped it through his entire body, and even his wolf couldn’t resist the intensity of it. It growled, demanded more, and unenthusiastically pulling away from the kiss, Harry breathed deeply through his mouth, desperately trying to clear the fog that had settled in his brain.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he exhaled.</p>
<p>Draco gave a breathless laugh.</p>
<p>“That’s the idea,” he said.</p>
<p>Harry chuckled.</p>
<p>He grinned and untangling his fingers from Draco’s hair, he let his hands travel down Draco’s arms, squeezed his biceps, and slipped his fingers underneath the hem of Draco’s jumper. He relished in the softness of Draco’s hot skin, dug his nails into the pale flesh, and without breaking eye contact, he dragged the garment up. As he did, Draco raised his arms above his head, and Harry effortlessly divested him of the piece of clothing, then flung it across the room. It landed on the armrest of one of the cosy armchairs by the fireplace and Harry snickered softly.</p>
<p>Draco lowered his arms, slowly and gradually, and placing them on top of Harry’s thighs, he squeezed, digging his nails firmly into Harry’s taut muscles. Harry flexed his strong thigh muscles to assert his dominance and lowering his gaze, his eyes settled on the stunning tattoo of a wolf, curled up in a tight ball with its snout resting on the top of its bushy tail. It was completely black, and considering the natural paleness of Draco’s skin, they stood out like a beacon.</p>
<p>Harry gasped.</p>
<p>“What―?”</p>
<p>Draco laughed.</p>
<p>It was a soft, slightly nervous, breathy sort of laugh.</p>
<p>“Surprise.”</p>
<p>“You―” Harry mumbled but didn’t finish whatever he’d been about to say.</p>
<p>Distracted, he let his fingers travel along Draco’s arm but did so without taking his eyes off the genuinely mesmerising piece of ink that covered a large portion of Draco’s left chest. It looked astonishingly real, and an insistent tingle in the pads of his fingers drove Harry to lightly brush up against the tattoo. The moment he did, the wolf opened his eyes and stared at him. Its piercing emerald-green eyes sparkled brightly, and for a moment, Harry felt like he was staring into his own soul. He moved his fingers, and the wolf uncurled, stretched leisurely, then stood up. It remained in that position until Harry touched it for a third time, then it sat back on its hindlegs, tilted its head up towards Draco’s shoulder and howled. Given that it was a tattoo, it was a soundless howl, but it touched something deep inside of Harry and possessed, he cupped Draco’s face and kissed him.</p>
<p>It was a wild and ferocious kiss.</p>
<p>Harry poured all his feelings into it, every ounce of it. He didn’t hold back, not even a little. Through the kiss, he conveyed his gratitude, his intense desire to possess Draco, to stay with him for all eternity, and the all-consuming love he felt for the man who’d changed his life so completely.</p>
<p>He wasn’t entirely sure whether Draco would be able to discern what he was trying to say, but he didn’t dwell on that. Instead, he focused on pouring everything he had to give in to the kiss and relished in the way Draco wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.</p>
<p>They kissed until a distinct lack of oxygen forced them apart and with his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe, Harry stared into Draco’s eyes. They were dark with want and sparkled with desire. Swallowing hard, Harry glanced down at the tattoo on Draco’s chest.</p>
<p>“Did it hurt?”</p>
<p>Draco nodded.</p>
<p>“How much?”</p>
<p>Draco laughed.</p>
<p>“Imagine ten-thousand stinging hexes in a single day.”</p>
<p>Harry winced.</p>
<p>He traced the outline of the wolf, and it moved, chasing his touch.</p>
<p>“It’s stunning.”</p>
<p>“I got it for you, a reminder of your first ever shift.”</p>
<p>Harry smiled.</p>
<p>“That afternoon changed my life.”</p>
<p>“Any regrets?”</p>
<p>Harry stopped teasing the ink wolf with the tips of his index finger and flicking his gaze up, he looked into Draco’s eyes.</p>
<p>“None,” he said with conviction.</p>
<p>Draco tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and Harry watched as a broad grin spread across his face.</p>
<p>“Anyone else and I’d call them a liar.”</p>
<p>Harry raised his eyebrow in a silent question.</p>
<p>Draco chuckled softly.</p>
<p>“You, cub, don’t have that sort of talent.”</p>
<p>Harry growled, but it had zero effect on Draco who only laughed harder.</p>
<p>Instead of engaging in a verbal sparring match with Draco, Harry resolutely stood. Before Draco was able to figure out what he was up to, he lunged forward, wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and lifted him up and off the piano stool.</p>
<p>Draco yelped and smacked his upper arm hard, but Harry simply ignored the sharp pain that shot up his arm and exploded in his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Brute,” Draco protested half-heartedly.</p>
<p>Harry laughed and tightened his grip, squeezing Draco’s waist. He turned and with a casual flick of his hand and a gust of wandless magic, he closed the lid of the grand piano. It dropped but knowing that Draco would quite possibly murder him if he destroyed his prized possession, Harry made sure not to slam the lid. Instead, he closed it as gently as possible and taking a step forward, he pushed Draco up against the piano, forcing him to sit on top of it. The move resulted in Draco inadvertently pressing down on several white and black keys at the same time.</p>
<p>Draco fought a bit, but Harry pushed up against him and pressed his hands against Draco’s chest, steadily shoving him back. Draco tried his hardest to remain upright, but eventually, it came to a point where gravity won out, and he had no other option but to fall backwards.</p>
<p>With a soft chuckle and a satisfied grin, Harry wedged his leg between Draco’s thighs, firmly pushing his legs apart. He grabbed Draco’s knees, squeezed them tightly, then slid his hands up, steadily moving towards Draco’s hips. He grabbed them and dug his fingertips into them, pressing hard enough to leave distinct marks behind. The fact that Draco was still wearing his trousers didn’t make a difference. Harry’s grip was possessive and lowering his head, he pressed his lips against Draco’s navel, kissing it deeply. Draco arched his back, and Harry felt the hardness of Draco’s rather prominent erection press against his throat. He pushed against it, trailed a series of kisses up towards the centre of Draco’s bare chest and capturing Draco’s right nipple between his teeth, Harry sucked sharply, forcing a low moan to travel up into Draco’s throat and leave his mouth.</p>
<p>It echoed through the room and Harry bit the sensitive flesh. Draco groaned and flailing his arms he searched for something to hold on to. Without stopping his assault, Harry gently guided his hands to the edges of the piano and watched as Draco wrapped his fingers around the smooth, polished wood. He gripped hard, and his knuckles turned white from the effort it took to physically ground himself.</p>
<p>Harry flicked the tip of his tongue over Draco’s nipple then bit down. At the same time, he repositioned one hand and seizing Draco’s other nipple between his forefinger and thumb, he rolled it, then squeezed.</p>
<p>Draco arched his back, and this time he pressed his erection against Harry’s chest. Harry’s heart swelled, and his chest expanded. He peppered Draco’s chest with kisses, covering every inch of it. Draco continued to roll his hips, clearly desperate for the friction and Harry found yet more places to kiss and thoroughly tease.</p>
<p>At some point, he arrived at Draco’s neck and sucking a generous amount of taut skin, and the flesh beneath it, into his mouth, he sucked hard.</p>
<p>A strange sound escaped Draco’s lips. It was an odd mixture between a groan, a moan, and a muffled scream and when Harry abandoned the idea of leaving a love bite on Draco’s neck and looked up, he saw that Draco had thrown his arm over his face to cover his mouth. A soft chuckle left Harry’s throat, and he moved further up, pushed Draco’s arm away and kissed him deeply and with wild abandon. He crawled halfway up onto the piano and trapping Draco beneath him, he kissed and caressed him, possessively asserting his dominance over the only person in the entire world his wolf accepted as an equal. Draco responded to every stroke of Harry’s tongue and every touch. He arched up against Harry, wound his legs around Harry’s hips to keep him in place, and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry’s neck.</p>
<p>Harry didn’t stop him.</p>
<p>He simply continued to kiss Draco senseless. It was one of his favourite pastimes, and he was in no rush to move on.</p>
<p>By now, the scent of Draco’s essence was so strong that Harry couldn’t stop. He didn’t even want to try to pull away and rein himself in. He wanted Draco, and he wanted all of him. He wanted to possess him, own him, devour him, claim him, and push him to chase his release. He wanted to hold him through it all, kiss him softly and tenderly, give him a moment of respite, then do it all over again, and again, and again.</p>
<p>At some point, Harry had to break away from the kiss, and panting, he covered Draco’s chest with wet kisses, licking and biting him. All the while, his hands travelled down, readying themselves for a fight with Draco’s belt. He fumbled with it, toyed with the buckle, tugged at it, and finally managed to undo it. The top button didn’t require as much effort, and the zipper was a piece of cake.</p>
<p>Harry shifted, adjusted his stance and sliding his hands into Draco’s open trousers, he grabbed his pert arse and squeezed it, proprietorially claiming Draco for himself. He moved back up to devour Draco’s mouth, kissed him until they were both breathless and panting, then covered his entire chest―he paid special attention to Draco’s tattoo, chasing the wolf with his lips and the tip of his tongue―and most of his stomach in kisses.</p>
<p>Once he arrived at the trail of soft blond hair that led him straight to Draco’s fancy silken boxer briefs, he yanked at Draco’s trousers, dragged them off his hips.</p>
<p>Draco arched his back, then lifted his hips to make it easier for Harry to remove to piece of clothing.</p>
<p>Harry pulled the trousers down to Draco’s knees, then stopped to remove Draco’s shoes, carelessly flinging them to the floor. Draco’s socks also found their way onto the ground and shortly after, Harry tossed Draco’s tailored trousers onto the piano stool. Draco moved his legs and his heels connected with the piano keys. A strange and off-key composition echoed through the room, but instead of letting that distract him from his goal, Harry grabbed Draco’s ankles, squeezed them firmly, then ran his hands up Draco’s legs. He teased the inside of Draco’s thighs, then pressed his palm against Draco’s erection, still covered by his black briefs, and massaged it through the fabric.</p>
<p>Draco arched his back, thrust against his hand and writhing on top of the piano, he breathlessly begged for more. Harry silenced him with a deep kiss and continuing to tease him mercilessly, he extended one hand, and summoned a phial of lube, Draco had made himself. It was all-natural, silky smooth, thick, and lasted for hours. Exactly what they needed for all their sexual endeavours.</p>
<p>The small bottle flew straight into Harry’s hand and closing his fingers around it, Harry focused back on kissing Draco senseless. He continued to rub his hand over Draco’s erection, even slipped his fingers underneath the fabric to tease the throbbing flesh, and thrust his own erection against Draco’s thigh. The head of his cock was covered in more than enough precome, and his cock smoothly slid up and down Draco’s thigh.</p>
<p>Harry fondled Draco’s balls, teasing them until he felt them tighten. It was only then that he briefly stopped kissing Draco. He practically ripped Draco’s briefs off his hips and flung them onto the floor. With Draco now completely naked, Harry had unrestricted access to every single inch of his body, and he made thorough use of that. He caressed, teased, squeezed, rubbed, kissed, licked, and sucked, steadily turning Draco into a complete wreck. Draco moaned and begged, writhed atop the piano, and urged him to get a move on but Harry ignored him completely.</p>
<p>Slowly and deliberately taking Draco apart gave him far too much of a kick to stop early. He, therefore, continued to take things slow and not even Draco cursing him to the pits of hell and threatening murder deterred him from that task, but he did retaliate.</p>
<p>He pulled away just long enough to pour a bit of lube onto his hand and wrapping it around Draco’s cock, he expertly brought him to the very edge of his orgasm, then denied him the pleasure of enjoying the full extent of it.</p>
<p>Draco cursed him some more than breathlessly pleaded with him to <em>please, please, please, please</em> stop being a complete tease.</p>
<p>Harry chuckled against Draco’s warm and sweaty skin. He buried his nose in the pale flesh and inhaled deeply, getting drunk on Draco’s essence. It was more than powerful and drove Harry into a frenzy. The musky scent of Draco’s arousal didn’t help and burying his face in Draco’s crotch, Harry breathed deeply, savouring the smell that, for him, defined Draco. He continued to tease Draco and gently toying with his balls, he let his lube-coated fingertips slip over Draco’s perineum. He teased around Draco’s hole, repeatedly circled over the furrowed skin, and idly wondered how long it would take before Draco started begging again. He didn’t expect to have to wait all that long.</p>
<p>Draco moaned, thrust up to entice him to go further and Harry sucked one of Draco’s balls into his mouth and showed it some love. He could feel Draco’s cock pulse against the side of his face and taking another deep breath, Harry continued to tease Draco’s hole, playing with it until it flexed beneath his fingertips, trying to invite him in. The muscle gradually relaxed ever so slightly, and Harry pushed a single finger into Draco, allowing the intense heat and tightness to envelop him. Draco practically screamed in delight and Harry finger-fucked him slowly. He’d done this often enough to be able to effortlessly find the walnut-sized nub that when stimulated sent bolts of lightning through Draco and adding a little more lube, Harry prepared to insert a second finger. It made it so much easier to tease Draco’s prostate.</p>
<p>The piano groaned under his and Draco’s combined weight, and when Draco moved, his heels once again landed on top of the keys. Strange, nonsensical sounds filled the room, but Harry was far too focused on the beautiful song that kept falling from Draco’s lips to acknowledge it. Draco begged, moaned, groaned, and made various other delectable sounds that travelled straight through Harry and pooled low in his groin, sending his arousal spiralling entirely out of control.</p>
<p>He pressed the pads of his fingers against Draco’s prostate, stimulated it until Draco squirmed and contorted himself beneath him, then slowly withdrew his fingers. Just when they were about to plop out, he pushed them back inside, forcing them as deep as Draco would let him. He alternated been slow and gently strokes and fast and hard thrusts. On top of that, he shifted so that he could capture Draco’s mouth in a slow and sensual kiss. He swallowed all of Draco’s sounds, stroked his prostate and steadily worked towards sending Draco over a different kind of edge altogether.</p>
<p>They’d been intimate for long enough for Harry to know how much Draco loved an explosive prostate orgasm and that was precisely what he was after. He continuously teased Draco’s prostate, rubbing the steadily hardening nub until Draco’s was writhing in a pool of his own sweat. It was then that Harry broke away from the kiss and propping himself up on one arm, he looked down at Draco.</p>
<p>“Look at me,” he whispered softly and waited patiently for Draco to open his eyes.</p>
<p>It took a moment for Draco to react, but when he did, he blinked, and his eyelids fluttered open. He looked up at Harry with a dazed, half-gone sort of expression, and keeping his gaze locked on Draco’s, Harry smiled and positively drowned in Draco’s dark grey, almost black orbs. They’d turned into wild swirling pools, and each one of them contained a little thunderstorm waiting to break loose.</p>
<p>“Come for me, gorgeous, come for me,” he murmured.</p>
<p>Draco whimpered softly and his fingers closed around the edges of the piano, looking for support. He held on tight and rolled his hips. Harry moved with him, pressed his fingers against Draco’s prostate and rubbed it with intention. An intense shiver surged through Draco and Harry absorbed some of it. He continued to bring Draco closer and closer to the edge.</p>
<p>“Come for me,” he whispered again.</p>
<p>In response to his request, a low, drawn-out moan fell from Draco lips, and he panted hard. Harry lowered his head and pressed a lingering kiss against the side of Draco’s neck. He also inhaled deeply, drinking in yet more of Draco’s scent, the one scent he could never get enough of. It was ingrained in him, had become such an essential part of him that he couldn’t imagine to surviving a day without it.</p>
<p>“Come for me.”</p>
<p>Harry urged Draco for the third time, lifted his head just enough to kiss Draco. This time his kiss was different. It wasn’t devouring. He wasn’t trying to possessively claim Draco. No, this kiss was soft and gentle. It was loving, filled to the brim with all the love he felt for Draco, and it made all the difference. The stark contrast pushed Draco over the edge, and Harry felt him clench around his fingers, pulling them deeper inside of him and trapping them there.</p>
<p>Draco’s entire body started to shake and pulling away from the kiss, Harry watched as Draco fell, chasing after the thrill of a different kind of orgasm. He moaned, arched his back, and curled his toes. His hands blindly groped for Harry’s shoulders, and once he’d found them, he dug his fingernails sharply into them. Harry winced, but Draco was louder and drowned him out. He gasped for air, groaned, and flushing from head to toe, he came hard. His cock remained rock-hard, but his entire body convulsed, and a string of incoherent nonsense fell from his lips.</p>
<p>Harry watched him with the fondest smile, the kind he reserved exclusively for Draco. He guided Draco through his orgasm, and it was only when the last shocks of it had subsided that he slowly withdrew his fingers. Since he’d managed to render Draco speechless and turn him into a boneless puddle of goo, he didn’t even attempt to ask Draco anything. Instead, he slipped one arm under Draco’s arms and the other under Draco’s knees and picked him up.</p>
<p>Even though Draco was a grown man, to Harry, he was practically weightless. The first few times he’d tried to carry Draco, Draco had fought him tooth and nail, resisted him with all his might, but these days Draco didn’t care so much. Harry brought him into their bedroom, gently placed him on top of the sheets, and crawling after him, he enveloped him in a full-body hug. Draco curled into him, wrapped his arms and legs around him and Harry felt him bury his flushed, hot face in his chest.</p>
<p>Smiling, Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s messy hair, damp hair, and snuggling closer, he pressed his nose into Draco’s long locks and inhaled deeply. Draco’s essence, pure and unconcentrated, mixed with the clean smell of the sheets, the scent of nature wafting in through the open window, the lingering fragrance of Draco’s arousal and the citrusy freshness of his hair. All that had Harry floating in his own little world and several minutes passed before he managed to regain a bit of coherence.</p>
<p>He shifted, felt Draco pull back a little and they both locked eyes and smiled.</p>
<p>“Love you.”</p>
<p>Harry breathed the words rather than spoke them, and Draco’s warm chuckle filled the small space between them.</p>
<p>“Sentimental fool.”</p>
<p>Harry rolled his eyes and nudged Draco’s upper arm.</p>
<p>“Say it,” he urged.</p>
<p>Draco pulled his eyebrows up.</p>
<p>“Say what?” he asked.</p>
<p>Harry pulled a face.</p>
<p>“You know exactly what I want you to say.”</p>
<p>Draco laughed.</p>
<p>“Do I?” he asked.</p>
<p>He rolled onto his back and stared at the canopy of their four-poster bed.</p>
<p>Growling, Harry climbed on top of him and wrapping his fingers tightly around Draco’s wrists, he pinned him to the bed, holding him in place.</p>
<p>“Say it,” he snarled.</p>
<p>Draco smirked and shook his head.</p>
<p>“Make me,” he taunted with a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes.</p>
<p>Harry let out another growl―this one was far more menacing―and tightened his grip on Draco’s wrists, squeezing tight enough to quite possibly leave a mark.</p>
<p>He tilted his head slightly to the side and arched an eyebrow at Draco.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you want me to do that?”</p>
<p>A bubble of laughter left Draco’s mouth.</p>
<p>“Give it your best shot, Potter. You’ve got to earn any verbal affirmations of my affection for you.”</p>
<p>Harry threw his head back and laughed.</p>
<p>“Brat. Like you didn’t just use a roundabout way to tell me that you love me,” he said.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p>
<p>Harry rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>He stretched and strategically draping himself over Draco, he reached out, opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand, and retrieved a neat coil of rope which he showed to Draco, who’s eyes widened.</p>
<p>For a moment, he just stared at the rope, but then he nodded.</p>
<p>With a dirty smirk, Harry shifted and straddling Draco’s hips, he expertly uncurled the rope. He hooked his index finger around the bight, grabbed both of Draco’s hands and pulling them towards him, he placed them together, then fashioned a broad double-column-tie which he skilfully finished off with a Somerville Bowline. He made sure to secure the rope above Draco’s wrist to avoid nerve damage and tied the remainder of the rope to the sturdy wooden headboard, tightening it with one firm tug which forced Draco to lift his arms over his head.</p>
<p>Harry chuckled softly, gave the rope one final check, then braced himself on his arms and leant forward, bringing his face within inches of Draco’s.</p>
<p>“Before we proceed, let me just take a moment to remind you that you consented to this, Malfoy. Shall we see if that was a smart move, gorgeous?”</p>
<p>Shifting his upper bodyweight onto one arm, Harry traced Draco’s jawline and felt it tightened under his gentle caress.</p>
<p>“Do I sense a bit of regret?” he teased.</p>
<p>Draco’s jaw tightened further. His eyes narrowed, and he glowered, but instead of spitting out an insult, he merely pressed his lips firmly together and petulantly gave Harry the silent treatment.</p>
<p>Harry laughed.</p>
<p>He reached up to squeeze Draco’s hands and because this wasn’t the first time, they’d done this, Draco instantly squeezed back, allowing Harry the peace of mind to know that he was fine and comfortable and happy to proceed.</p>
<p>Reassured that everything was okay, Harry teasingly trailed his fingers down Draco’s arm. His nails were short but long enough to give the tormenting touch a bit of an edge. As he’d expected, Draco squirmed and tried to get away from his hands but the ropes, and the fact that Harry was on top of him, kept him trapped. Draco conveyed his annoyance with an icy glare.</p>
<p>Harry smirked.</p>
<p>“I’ve only just started, and you already want me to stop?”</p>
<p>He didn’t give Draco the chance to consider whether he wanted to answer the question or not. Instead, he covered Draco’s mouth with his own and ever so gently nipped at Draco’s lips, teased them with the tip of his tongue and then kissed him softly, slowly and with absolutely no intention to take things any further. All the while, he allowed his fingertips to trail over every inch of Draco’s skin he could comfortably reach; his arms, his sides, his chest, his stomach, his hips, part of his thighs.</p>
<p>Draco both arched into his touch and twisted away from it and breaking away from the kiss, Harry dragged his lips over Draco’s jawline down his throat. He felt Draco swallow, heard him whimper, and moving to the side of Draco’s neck, he pressed his nose and mouth against Draco’s jugular. He felt it pulse beneath his lips and inhaled deeply, savouring Draco’s scent.</p>
<p>“I’m going to make you lose your mind, gorgeous,” he whispered, breathing the words directly into Draco’s ear.</p>
<p>Draco shivered and writhed, but Harry didn’t let him get away.</p>
<p>Instead, he made it his mission to kiss every inch of Draco’s body, and by every inch, he literally meant every inch. He started out at Draco’s neck, worked his way along Draco’s shoulder, along his arms, then down again, all over his chest, and across his quivering stomach.</p>
<p>Draco was still rock hard; the tip of his cock glistened with precome and twitched every now and then in the hope of attracting Harry’s mouth or his hand or perhaps even both. Harry lapped at the head, licked it clean, pressed his face into it and inhaled deeply, then continued to ignore the one place Draco desperately wanted him to lavish with attention. He teased along the inside of Draco’s thighs and tickled him behind his knees. When Draco tried to kick him, Harry swiftly grabbed Draco’s leg and held it down.</p>
<p>“Play nice, Malfoy.”</p>
<p>He murmured the words against Draco’s perspired, salty-tasting skin and nipping at it, he teasing sank his teeth into the pale flesh, forcing a yelp to rise through Draco’s chest and escape through his parted lips. Harry chuckled, fully aware that the sound, somewhat muffled by Draco’s bare leg, sent pleasant vibrations through Draco. On a mission to drive Draco mad, Harry continued to tease him until a breathless ‘<em>please</em>’ fell from Draco’s lips.</p>
<p>Crawling up, Harry covered Draco’s body with his own and smiled down at him. He reached up to check on the ropes and captured Draco’s lips in a passionate kiss at the same time. Satisfied that the sensitive nerves that ran through Draco’s wrists remained unharmed, he deepened the kiss, wound his tongue around Draco’s and snogged him until he’d managed to empty Draco’s lungs. It was only then that he pulled away, locked eyes with Draco and licked his lips.</p>
<p>“Delicious,” he said with a smirk.</p>
<p>Draco responded by tugging on his restraints, and for a while, Harry simply watched him, then decided to change his tune. Confident that he’d tormented Draco enough, Harry subjected him to a much more passionate assault and instead of featherlight touches and butterfly kisses, he bit, sucked, twisted, and pulled, drawing moan after moan from the depths of Draco’s chest.</p>
<p>Harry took great pleasure in teasing Draco’s nipples, biting them and sucking them into his mouth. Each time he did it, Draco arched into his touch to somewhat lessen the sting, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He knew Draco’s body inside out, knew exactly how it responded to his touch and therefore made the most of it. He left a few tiny marks all over Draco’s body, and by the time Draco gifted him with a second open-mouthed ‘<em>please</em>’ Harry decided to up the stakes even more. But first, he wanted to taunt Draco a little bit, just to drive him a little closer to the edge.</p>
<p>“Ready to tell me what I want to hear yet?”</p>
<p>Draco’s eyes, though lust-laden and filled with desire, darkened instantly and he gave him a black look.</p>
<p>“You wish, Potter,” he spat.</p>
<p>Harry laughed.</p>
<p>“Guess I’ll have to let the wolf out after all,” he said.</p>
<p>And with that, he kissed Draco deeply. At the same time, he shoved his hand underneath one of the many pillows, retrieved another phial of lube, and breaking away from the kiss, he shifted and moved into a kneeling position. He remained astride Draco’s thighs and holding Draco’s gaze, he watched him swallow hard as he coated his hand with a generous helping of lube.</p>
<p>“Last chance for you to reconsider, gorgeous,” he whispered.</p>
<p>Draco pressed his lips tightly together.</p>
<p>Harry chuckled.</p>
<p>“The hard way it is then.”</p>
<p>He wrapped his fingers around Draco’s cock and teased him with a series of leisure strokes. Draco tried to thrust into the touch, but given that his arms were restrained over his head and Harry was sitting on his thighs, he couldn’t really gain any traction. He voiced his displeasure with a disgruntled groan, and Harry applied a bit more pressure, moved his hand a little faster. He watched Draco like a hawk, looking out for any signs that he was edging closer to an orgasm and exactly when he was seconds away from the point of no return, and his entire body was taut and thrumming with desire, Harry stopped.</p>
<p>Draco groaned and cursed him viciously.</p>
<p>“Potter, you―”</p>
<p>Before Draco could finish that sentence, Harry claimed his mouth and kissed him fiercely. He risked having his tongue bitten off, but miraculously Draco didn’t stoop that low. Still locked at lips, Harry wrapped his fingers around Draco’s cock and teased it all over again. This time, he kept his touch agonisingly slow throughout. As a result, it took ages for Draco to get anywhere near another point of no return, but when he did, Harry once again denied him his orgasm.</p>
<p>Draco twisted and writhed beneath him, yanked at his restraints, and Harry felt him curl his toes. His entire body was flushed and covered with a beautiful, fine sheen of sweat. It was also peppered with red blotches, reminders of Harry’s bites, which he revisited with sweet, lingering kisses designed to drive Draco barking mad.</p>
<p>Harry could feel Draco’s desperate need to come. It thrummed through his body with the same intensity as his heartbeat, and it ignited something fierce inside Harry, namely the desire to claim his mate, to own every part of him, to unite them in the most intimate way possible. He resisted the urge for a while, but when he leant forward to capture Draco’s swollen lips in a passionate kiss, and his nostrils caught Draco’s scent, Harry couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He growled and shifting, he grabbed Draco’s legs, roughly pushed them apart, and bracing himself on one arm, he used his other hand to coat his thick, throbbing cock with a generous amount of lube. He positioned himself at Draco’s hole, felt it contract against the tip of his cock and let out a low and menacing growl.</p>
<p>“Mine,” he snarled and pushed forward.</p>
<p>Draco arched his back, moaned and Harry found himself engulfed by hot tightness as he slipped inside of Draco. He pushed forward until he was completely sheathed inside Draco and with one hand still possessively clenched around Draco’s ankle, he leant forward, pressed a kiss to Draco’s parted lips, then pulled back and thrust into Draco. It was a hard and unforgiving thrust, but Draco didn’t curse him for it. On the contrary, he welcomed it by arching his back and pushing his hips up to meet Harry.</p>
<p>Pulling back, Harry snapped his hips again. His balls slammed against Draco’s arse, and every fibre of him thrummed to life as raw desire took over and guided his actions. Draco was his, had been for years, but right this moment, Harry wanted―needed―proof. He craved more of the feeling of Draco, giving it all up to him; he was so hungry for it that he chased after the thrill of getting what he wanted without the slightest bit of hesitation.</p>
<p>Draco surrendered himself willingly, moved in unison with him. His moans, gasps and breathless pleads filled the room, bare skin slammed against bare skin and the squelching sounds of raw, hot sex filled Harry’s ears. The sweet-smelling scent of Draco’s arousal was so strong that it almost overpowered his essence, but somehow, Harry’s nose could still distinguish between the two, not that it helped him control himself in any way. If anything, it only made it even harder for him to fight against the thick fog that threatened to overpower him and render him utterly defenceless.</p>
<p>Right this moment, he only thing he could think of, the only thought that mattered, was the fact that Draco was his, his mate, his partner, his equal, and the one person who’d brought balance back to his life. Yes, he’d been forced to give up on the dream of making a career within the DMLE and rising through the ranks, but Draco had enriched his life in so many ways that whatever regrets he’d had in the past, they were all gone now.</p>
<p>Harry was vaguely aware of the fact that he’d let go of Draco’s ankle and travelling up his leg, he grabbed his hip instead and squeezed it hard enough for Draco to let out a low groan. He thrust forward, buried himself inside of Draco, and leaning forward, he planted a breathless kiss on Draco’s lips.</p>
<p>His heart pounded in his chest, and he was hot and sweaty, but he didn’t care about any of that. All he wanted was to chase his release, to fall over the edge together with Draco and lose himself in the sensation of a truly mind-blowing experience. He kissed Draco again, lingered a little longer this time and thrust into him again and again, and again. His groin felt tight and full of coiled desire, desperate for release. It thrummed through him, dispelled the faint beginnings of an all-consuming tiredness that threatened to take over, and filled him with the appeasing knowledge that Draco was his and would always be his. The wolf inside of him growled in agreement, and Harry buried his face in the crook of Draco’s neck. He inhaled deeply, snapped his hips, and felt the aftershocks of Draco’s own desire reverberating through him.</p>
<p>There were times when Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether his and Draco’s love-making would always remain this intense, but it was always only a fleeting thought that dissipated almost as quickly as it popped into Harry’s head. He didn’t chase after it but remained firmly rooted in the here and now. Draco continued to writhe beneath him. He arched into his every thrust and worked together with him. It was the perfect push and pull. They propelled each other forward with a wordless understanding of each other’s needs and desires, and even though they were both breathless and struggled to get enough air into their lungs, they couldn’t stop kissing each other.</p>
<p>Time and time again, Harry returned to capture Draco’s lips with his own, and they kissed with wild abandon and until they were forced to take in a bit of oxygen to sustain them.</p>
<p>“Mine, mine, mine, mine,” Harry murmured against Draco’s lips.</p>
<p>His possessiveness sent tremor after tremor through Draco, and his body shook and vibrated beneath Harry. Somehow, Harry managed to find Draco’s restrained wrists and linking their fingers together, he squeezed, gripping Draco’s hand tightly.</p>
<p>For a few seconds, he faltered a bit, and some of his thrusts lost a bit of their intensity, but all it took was one two-worded affirmation from Draco.</p>
<p>“Yes, yours,” he panted.</p>
<p>That propelled Harry right over the edge and from here on there was absolutely no turning back. His orgasm, the one pleasure he’d resisted chasing after all this time, overpowered him and flooded through his groin. It exploded right in the centre, and despite the extreme tightness around his cock, he felt it pulse and vibrate as rope after rope of his come shot through it and filled Draco. He somehow managed a few more shaky thrusts to draw out his own orgasm and remembered to wrap his hand around Draco’s cock to help him along. He didn’t need to do much though; Draco was so close that it only took a few strokes before Draco followed him over the edge and exploded all over his hand.</p>
<p>Harry carefully brought his come-coated hand up to his mouth and inhaling deeply, he savoured the scent of it. It had an almost overpowering salty tang to it, but there were also elements of Draco’s essence and greedily licking the thick quite liquid off his hand, Harry swallowed every drop. His slowly softening cock slipped out of Draco and shifting so that he was lying next to Draco, he reached up and blindly undid the ropes that kept Draco bound to the bed. The knot came undone immediately, but it took a little longer for Harry to loosen the double-column-tie enough for Draco to wriggle out of it. Still, the moment, he was free, Draco engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug. Harry reciprocated, and they simply lay in the darkness, snuggled up close with their legs entangled.</p>
<p>Sleep tugged at the corners of Harry’s consciousness, but his wolf growled angrily and sent it scrambling for the hills. He wearily lifted his head, looked at Draco, who gave him a goofy grin, and smiled.</p>
<p>“Say it,” he murmured.</p>
<p>Draco chuckled.</p>
<p>“Love you, cub.”</p>
<p>Harry growled.</p>
<p>“I’m not a cub.”</p>
<p>Draco laughed and poked him square in the chest.</p>
<p>“You’re my cub,” he said with such conviction that Harry, although sorely tempted to argue his case, clamped his mouth shut and said nothing.</p>
<p>“I knew you’d say it,” he whispered, mumbling the words against Draco’s arm.</p>
<p>His fingers travelled across Draco’s chest and sought out the new tattoo. Although he couldn’t see it, Harry was convinced that he could feel the wolf chase after his fingertips. It almost felt like the wolf was trying to nip at his fingers. Amused, he chuckled softly.</p>
<p>“Given the right incentive I’ll say almost anything, cub, but those words, those are reserved for you and you alone.”</p>
<p>Harry’s chest constricted and for a moment he struggled to breathe, and before he didn’t know what to say to that, he wrapped his arms tightly around Draco and simply held on to him, a bit as though a part of him was afraid that Draco might just disappear.</p>
<p>“Esto quod es, cub, be what you are, fortis et liber, strong and free.”</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>💋 This work is part of the Taste of Smut Fest, a Harry Potter-centered fest dedicated to the five senses: taste, touch, smell, hearing, and sight. </p><p>If you’ve enjoyed this work, please do shower our content creators with kudos and comments! 💌</p><p>  <a href="https://tasteofsmut.tumblr.com/">Please check out the fest's tumblr for more posts and updates</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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